Just Pretend There's A Womb
by Gir obsesser
Summary: All he remembers are the green lights. All around him question his sanity. A deep secret in a scientist's labs. A man of blood. Distant connections. Allies shattering. Evil rising. All somehow drawn to a new life struggling to be born. A genesis rising.
1. Abducted at last long last

All IZ characters belong to Jhonen. Terry and man-eating minnie tiny weenie rolls are mine... well... minnie tiny weenies and associated holidays are T's... but none the less!

Plot warnings: Warning: includes impreg, although it should be noted that it was not through homosexual actions.

--

Chapter 1 - Astronomy (original chapter title)

A pair of coffee toned eyes glared from behind framed glass, and a palm reached out cautiously, fingers grasping a metal pipe interwoven within the mess of cords. To this vision, the universe was upside down, taunting as what was only ten feet loomed like thirty. A bead of sweat rolled down pale skin and to a brow furrowed in concentration.

"Yes, Gir, I believe that this plan shall finish the Dib beast once and for all, and then we can final move on to world domination!" A cackle erupted in the room, which was followed by squeaky cheering.

"Hurray for doom-i-nation! Yay!" The boy sprawled out across the wire and tube ceiling winced at the high-pitched exclamation, and thin fingers grasped even harder in resistance as the blood began rushing to his head, stomach churning as if it was full of oatmeal. "Then you're gonna' ask out Gazzy, right? Right?" The climber inhaled sharply.

"Eh… no." A mistake was made as the human above sighed rather loudly in belief, and then gulped as he literally heard an all too familiar green head snap upwards.

He glanced down at the ground, migraine enlarging as his head hung. He smiled nervously. "Eh heh… um… hi?" He yelped as he was yanked from the ceiling, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Dib beast!"

"Hey Zim." He answered, peering out at his enemy. His blood boiled at the cocky smile across the alien's features, and he growled, and tugged at the mechanical leg suspending him in the air. "Put me down, alien scum!"

Zim laughed maniacally. "Fool! I wasn't going to vaporize you until Tuesday… but this is perfect! You walked right into my trap!"

Dib squinted, pushing his glasses up. "If you were going to vaporize me Tuesday, how could I have walked into a trap today?"

"Do not question Zim!" Dib was chucked to the floor, and winced as his arm landed in an uncomfortable position under his body. Zim hovered over him, pointing some form of bulging gun at him. "You, stinky… thing… are doomed!"

The teenager's eyes shot wide, and he rolled to the side so he wouldn't become a pile of soot. He glared up… then blinked… and blinked again… then knitted his brow. "Hey… since when have you been tall?" There was no response but a ping of a laser, and he had to scramble to his feet to avoid it.

"And since when do you not wear a coat?"

"Since I began scaling ceilings." A blur of blue and black lunged at extraterrestrial and the two enemies broke into a brawl, fighting to obtain control of the vaporizer. A green dog simply watched from the sideline, taking large slurps from an enormous freezy. Purple, blue, and dark green became the new fashion as fists met flesh and knees met stomach. Even red was flecked about as a set of razor teeth bit down on a pale hand that attempted to squash the green face into the floor.

This continued for quite a while until the front door slammed open, silencing the fight. Both paused mid-fight, not daring to look up at the looming shadow as Dib was lurched away, Zim kicked firmly in the gut to the point where his eyes watered, and order was restored once more as the scrawny human child was dragged off.

* * *

"I almost had him this time, Gaz!" Dib whined, plodding reluctantly behind her.

"That's what you say every other day. Now shut up. You're voice is hurting my ears." Dib exhaled deeply as he followed her. She did have a point – he and Zim were at it almost every other day, fighting until she tugged them apart and delivered proper punishment to each. If not for her, he would probably have died about ten times in the past week. Of course, being a sixteen year old junior paranormal investigator, he was too proud to admit so.

His mind began wandering as he attempted to remain on her fair side – she didn't have a good side. "Did you notice that's he's grown pretty tall over the last year or so?"

"He looks average to me."

"No, I mean for an Irken."

Gaz whipped out her portable gaming device and shrugged. "So what if he did?"

Her brother stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well... the Irken empire is a height based society… which is bad…." his lips twisted distastefully, "Because it means that Zim could maybe receive even more weapons, or worse-"he gulped, "-an invasion."

Gaz scoffed, and continued to pad her fingers against the device in her hands. "So?"

Dib ignored her, glancing up at the sky, which was becoming a deep shade of cobalt, the moon just beginning to show, much in the likeness of a phantom. The breeze was mild, and the sun languidly disappearing, casting shadows at the grimy buildings they passed as they strolled along the graying sidewalk.

"I think I might want to keep a look out for anything suspicious during the next couple of weeks. I'll probably set up my telescope tonight and-"

"Don't you have a big exam tomorrow?" The color drained from the child's face, and he sped forward, abandoning his sniggering little sister, who calmly continued at a relaxed pace down the sidewalk, game in hand.

After all, home was only a block away.

* * *

Dib tussled his hair, lacing his fingers into his fringe and shoving them into the rest of the raven mess. After middle school, he decided that he would grow the previously buzzed sides of his head out to just a bit under his earlobes, so that he had a shaggy – almost beach - look about his scythe.

He hardly noticed that his palm against his forehead was creating a red patch, or that he had nibbled the end of his pencil nearly to the led. A lengthy study packet lay open before him, only fifteen of the forty pages finished. He tapped his pencil against the desk, hunched over it as he squinted at the page, which was beginning to blur. He had never been particularly good at history.

The boy's eyes shifted to the digital clock glowing beside him. "Eleven forty one and still nowhere." He muttered, resting his head against the desk. It wasn't that history was challenging – he was Professor Membrane's child, after all – it was just that he found it incredibly boring and much less important than his other subjects or putting a halt to world domination.

Stiffly, he arched his back, scrunching his face as his joints popped, and stretched his arms out behind his head. He gave another glance at his paper, and shook his head, standing. "This is pointless" he muttered, shoving the papers aside, and tossed a peek at the window. The stars twinkled at him, beckoning sweetly, begging him to unravel their mysteries.

With a grin, he crossed the room to his closet, gathered up his telescope, laptop, and radar, then slipped into the hall as quietly as possible.

* * *

Bleeping delight soothed him as he serenely searched the heavens through the lens of a cylinder, smirking as he roamed across beautiful space sceneries. The wind spoke softly in his ear, dancing with the tail of his trench coat. While his family below slept or constructed amazing machines, he basked in the hugeness of the universe from his tiny perch upon the roof of the only dwelling he had ever known.

He stole a glance at his watch, and frowned. "It's almost one. And I still have to take that stupid test." Dib muttered to himself, and turned to his laptop, which glowed warmly. He shut it down and snapped the lid on it shut, rambling to himself about how useless the subject he would soon be quizzed on was, then began packing up his radar.

It was a small but bright light in the night sky behind him that suddenly caught his attention. Quickly, he thrust around, and stared as a light traveled across the face of the darkness. Dib hummed – a shooting star. Almost like the one he and his mother had watched so long ago. He tenderly peered through the telescope once again, watching as it fell toward the horizon line.

He was startled when it abruptly stopped. The hairs on the back of his neck raised as it hovered in place for a while, and then rose up again, zooming across another patch of land. He tensed, realizing it was changing from the size of a gnat to the size of a dime, and continued. "Oh no…." he mumbled, imagining about fifty other Zims aboard the possible death machine, all grinning cruelly down at the little blue planet, discoursing to each other the most entertaining ways to blow it up. He fidgeted, unable to do much but watch, and nearly scream as it began approaching him, growing larger and larger so that he had to pry away from the telescope and simply gaze in horror.

He stared up as the large silver disk swooped over him, and then stopped, hovering soundlessly. A blue light trickled down, and that was the last Dib remembered before waking up in the middle of the street under headlights with the horrible urge to vomit.

* * *

Membrane stomped through the living room towards the door as car horns began sounding, lights filling through his window. "Damn the solicitors, I'll-"

Somebody else opened his door before he could reach it. A pizza boy clad in red shirt and cap with a horrible case of acne stood in the doorway. "Dude, there's a kid in the middle of the road! And he's throwing up!"

Membrane looked around the teenager, squinting, and low and behold crumpled in the granite was the form of an underweight boy curled into a ball, heaving. The scientist recognized him easily, and brushed past the delivery boy, shouting "Son!"

The delivery boy, it turned out, wasn't the only one there, as there were two of them, and a couple of the neighbors had stepped out, flipping on their porch lights. Membrane knelt to the ground, laying a hand on his flesh and blood as the contents of the child's stomach continued to pool. After a couple of moments, he frantically mumbled "Son, can you hear me?"

"Uh-huh…." Dib nodded his head feebly before retching again, clutching his stomach, although at this point there was nothing left.

"Son?" The high school student rolled unto his back, coughing, but worked hard to keep a dizzy stare at his father's goggles. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three…."

Membrane sighed, curling his two fingers back into his fist, and glanced about. With as much dignity as possible, he heaved his child into his arms, and nodded at the pizza boy as he left the audience, finding more comfort behind the door of his abode. He laid his boy across the couch, and pulled up a chair, sitting across from him.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

Dib bolted upright, gasping, chest heaving up and down. He looked around – and was relieved to find that he wasn't on an autopsy table in a UFO. But he was a bit surprised to find himself on the couch, his father sitting across from him reading the paper, the sun beaming through the window.

"The test. I'm late!" Dib yelped, throwing the blankets that had been draped over him unto the floor. Membrane slapped his newspaper down, and firmly pressed the boy back unto the couch.

"You won't be going anywhere until your temperature recedes to the average range." The father said sternly, but in an oddly encyclopedia-like way. Dib blinked, a bit stunned, and tenderly laid his own fingers across his cheek, a bit shocked at the layer of sweat soaking it. "What on Earth did you do last night?" The man tapped his foot impatiently, crossing his arms.

Dib stared, open mouthed, but stopped himself before any words seeped through. "I… I don't know." He murmured.

"I know your expressions like the backside of a hydrogen atom, and you're lying to me."

Dib glanced away. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." He twiddled his thumbs uneasily, "I hardly do."

"Son, you can tell me anything."

Dib rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn't. He would, but the Professor would never believe him. "I… uh… was abducted by aliens." He murmured, already feeling the intense glare at his lowered forehead. "And I… I think they might have done something to upset my stomach. Maybe…." Ashamed, he glanced away. He sounded like some geek crying out for attention, and the truth was, was that besides the UFO, he had no reconciliation of being abducted. He had no proof to even convince himself.

"Son, sometimes we have horrible nightmares that may cause us to feel ill and, occasionally, sleepwalk. Perhaps you should take a day or so off of school until you're able to sort through your fears." Dib sighed, although for once, he really wanted to believe his father's words. But the burning sensation right before his stomach wouldn't have it.

"Yes sir." He mumbled, rolling unto his side and staring at the wall. He despised being treated like a child. He was sixteen! Yes, only by a week or so, but still. Yet, his father's sudden concern made a greedy bit of warmth spread through his young bones, momentarily washing away years of watching his father's indifference. It compelled the boy to comply, though he did have one stubborn request. "Can you call Gaz and ask her to bring me home a copy of my history exam?"

Membrane beamed with pride. "Of course – after all, education is vital."

Dib closed his eyes and smiled a bit, but it fell crooked as his stomach knotted, and he squirmed, trying to find a comfort zone, and a frown took over his features soon enough. His last conscious thought remained 'Damn… what kind of poisoning did those stupid aliens give me?"


	2. Twerp Cows

All IZ characters belong to Jhonen. Terry and man-eating minnie tiny weenie rolls are mine... well... minnie tiny weenies and associated holidays are T's... but none the less!

--

"Gaz, can I have some of that?" The irrited little girl glared up. Her brother was smiling down at her sweetly, leaning over the back of the couch just to get in her face. She waved the dripping slice of pizza. "You mean this?" He grinned widely, but his eyes soon narrowed and his smile fell as she rolled her tongue down the cheese then offered it up.

"You're evil."

"Cram it." She squinted as he continued to hover over her, staring as she ate her pizza. "Go get abducted again or something. Maybe this time you'll die on their autopsy table." Gaz sneered.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The teenager's fists curled tightly. It had been a little over three months since he had supposedly been abducted. Of course, though, nobody believed him. He hardly believed himself, although every time he tried to come up with a logical answer, he became stumped. The worst part about the trip was that nobody would drop it, even as the calendar flipped. Almost like the time he had awoken a heard of zombies and they stormed through the attic. "You know, Gaz, that's not a very healthy breakfast, especially on the first day back to school."

"Hey, fat boy, if you want some, go waddle to the fridge and get your own."

"I'm not fat."

"Corpulent." Dib furrowed his brow at her words, and glanced down, paling when his eyes crossed his stomach. She sniggered. "Too many popsicles, Dib?"

Forgetting the pizza, Dib darted back up the stairs.

He shivered a bit as he tugged his coat and shirt off, but stared at himself in the full length mirror. His arms and legs, neck, and face were all still quite twiggy. But his stomach was beginning to pouch. The boy turned, gazing, then spun forward again. The scar down the center of his stomach, proving that whatever had happened that May night was no joke, followed the path of his stomach.

"I didn't even notice." He mumbled, squinting as he pinched the bit of pudge. He sucked his gut in, turned again, and then released it, frowning. He didn't understand – he had been on the go all summer, there was no way he should be gaining weight. Losing, maybe, but gaining? Annoyed, he pulled his signature blue shirt over his head, ran his hands over it to flatten the wrinkles, and slipped into his trench coat.

"Come on, Dib! We're going to miss the bus!" he heard his sister whine from downstairs and with a sigh, heaved his backpack over his shoulders and headed out.

* * *

"I should have had that pizza…." Dib mumbled, clutching his grumbling stomach. Gaz scoffed beside him, tapping her fingers upon the small buttons of her handheld. He glanced irritably at her then looked ahead, scowling as his stomach complained with each bump the godforsaken bus ran over. He pondered for a moment whether they were driving through an orphanage. He sat up in his seat, but wasn't able to tell if there was blood on the windshield or not through the crowd of students. "Stupid backseat."

"I like the back seat." Gaz said with a shrug. Dib crossed his arms, leaning heavily into the grimy seat.

They rolled to a stop, and he glanced out the window, tensing as he saw the newcomers. Two boys, one tall with spiky red hair, the other stubby with a brown comb-back, walked unto the bus, chattering. The teenage heroine shrunk in his seat as he watched them approach. "Gaz, I think we need to move to the front."

"I think you need to leave me alone before I doom you. I'm trying to destroy evil piggies! Do you have something against that? Huh, huh?" She questioned menacingly, putting her game down to poke his chest, driving him into the isle. She growled, and he shook his head. The little goth girl resumed to her gaming, ending the conversation with "I didn't think so."

Dib cringed, curling back into the seat as he watched the two high-five other students, laughing and cracking jokes that weren't truly all that funny, although everyone laughed. Finally, they sat down.

Dib's mistake was the release of an audible sigh. Always with that audible sigh... Instantly, two heads snapped back, and necks craned. The junior paranormal investigator chuckled nervously, color draining from his face. "Uh… hi."

The taller one stood, ignoring the bus driver's racket. "Hey shrimp." A snigger from the plump one. "Whoa, looks like you gained a bit of pudge over the break. So what does that make you now, a computer geek?"

"Awe, and just when I was about to tell Auntie that I'd met an actual UFO junkie." The other crooned, an ugly smile curling on his lips.

"Hey, I didn't gain that much. And I'm not a junkie!" Dib cried, elbowing his sister roughly. He struggled as he was easily hoisted into the air by the shirt collar. "Ah! Wait! Please, don't-"

"I dunno, looks like he gained a bit of flap here." The tall one said, poking at his belly.

"It wouldn't be so bad if he weren't so damn scrawny everywhere else."

"You want the first punch?"

"My pleasure."

"No, wait! Put me down!" Dib yelped, kicking. They chuckled, raising him higher.

"Put him down." All froze at the sound of the cold voice, and Dib was promptly lowered to his seat. Gaz glared at them through gold eyes. "Lay a hand on him and I'll send you to a universe where your screams will shatter your bones into tiny fragments of dust." Backing away, the two rowdy slobs ran to their seats, and the crowd immediately fell silent, turning to the front of the bus.

Dib stared a bit, befuddled, then looked at his sister, who was still glaring daggers at the back of the tall jerk's head. "Why did you save me? You never save me!"

"Because I'm the only one who gets to beat you." She grimaced, slowly pulling her game from her pocket once more.

"What about Zim?"

"Zim couldn't harm a wasp if he had four gallons worth of bugs spray."

Dib blinked, and wondered how much Gaz had actually missed while caught in her little virtual world. Certainly, she hadn't realized he'd been tormented like this most every day since the third grade, or she would have done something sooner. 'Wouldn't she?' He didn't dare voice his opinion on that topic.

For the rest of the ride, he focused on the annoying ache in his stomach.

* * *

"Dib! Let's go!" Dib growled at the voice screaming from downstairs, and peeked an eye open, glancing at the alarm clock.

"Damn it." He mumbled, realizing that he had slept in. Not only that, but he had a rather important test. Drowsily, he lurched out of bed, scrambling to pull his things together. "Late… I'm late…." he stuttered, listening as the familiar roar of a large vehicle began approaching. "Gaz, wait up!"

"Hurry up if you want to make the bus, moron!"

He struggled to cram his books in his bag, clenching his teeth. Suddenly, he heard the hum of the bus, and rushed to the window. "No, wait!" he screamed, slamming the glass up, but to no avail. The bus rolled off, leaving a wavy black skid on the road behind it.

Dib gasped, and raced to the other side of the room towards his dresser, but stopped at the full length mirror. Not that he was incredibly vain, but this morning his eyes bulged as he felt his stomach over. "Huh?" he mumbled, patting it with a frown. He stared at his reflection – a pale, lanky teenage boy in a pair of blue boxers and a white undershirt, black scythe… and a fat belly. It reminded him of one of the pillow-stuffed Santa bellies like the Santa in the mall had. "Oh God, I am fat!" he yelped, "But how?" He sat on the end of his bed, confusion etched into his face as he squeezed the roles on his stomach. Then his eyes widened.

"I bet it was the aliens that did this! They must have put something in my digestive track that's making me fat… maybe they're trying to make me implode!"

He shook his head rapidly, pulling on his black jeans. He didn't have time for speculation, as he wiggled into his clothes, slung his bag over his shoulder, and ran out the front door screaming "I'm late!"

* * *

"Ugh…." Dib stared at the puke colored glop being spooned unto his tray. He glanced at the lunch lady. "Um… do you have anything that… I dunno… won't eat me?" he asked, and stared dully at the heavy-set face of the middle aged woman. "Ok, can I have some that at least doesn't have hair in it?" Yet another scoop was spooned unto his plate, and he groaned, moving down the line, paying hurriedly.

When he returned to his seat, he glanced at his sister, who tended to skip class to have lunch with him – which considering she nearly hater him, he didn't understand. 'Maybe she likes the consistency.' He thought to himself, sitting beside her, and prodded at the food on his tray. "Well… it doesn't seem to be alive today." He said optimistically, grinning.

"Look again."

Dib glanced down at his plate, and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. The puke-like… thing… happened to have a slug-like foot, and was slowly but surely crawling away. As was the usual routine, he shoved his food away, although he was immensely hungry.

"How'd your test go?"

"Aced."

"Huh." She continued poking at her game. "Well, that's nothing new."

"Hey, you always pass, too."

"So?"

He grumbled something incoherent, and returned to picking at his mobile food with the unrecognizable utensil in his hand. It wasn't a knife, a spoon, fork… or even a spork. Actually, it looked a bit like a curling iron. "I'm going to the library." He stood, shoveling his food back unto the tray, then dumped it into the nearest trash bin.

"Good." She replied, and he blinked before turning away, hunching his shoulders as he passed table after table of eleventh graders like himself, all wrestling with their food… except Torque, who simply slid plate after plate of glop into his large jaw. He spared a glare at Zim as he passed, and the alien gagged on his spoon, watching the boy's fat. Dib felt particularly embarrassed, turning pink as he hurried off.

The lighting in the hallway was exceptionally horrible, blinking, and the whole premises reeked of raw monkey brain. Dib paced himself, sliding his finger along the scummy wall. He came to a halt before his locker, rubbing his fingers together to get the dust off. He punched in the combination, opened the steel door, and withdrew the two library books he had to return, shoving them in his bag before closing the safe and turning about.

The hair on the back of his neck rose when he saw two familiar faces before him, the stout one cracking his knuckles. "Where's your sister?" he asked, mocking a sweet face.

"She's not here." Dib mumbled, pressing his back into the locker – he knew the drill by heart. The more he complied, the less painful they'd make it.

"Man, kid, you really are fat! You look like the stork visited you or something!" the tall one scoffed, and Dib cringed as he felt a foot meet his genitals, but didn't say anything as he continued to be kicked.

"You know, I saw this show on TV once. The kid had a dead twin in his gut. It became a cist parasite thing." The short one sniggered.

"Must have been triplets."

"Eh?"

"Well, his head's so big."

The two laughed, and Dib's legs began crumbling as he was beaten. Normally, he would be able to escape, but with his current weight gain, that was impossible. "Ah-" he yelped as the short one punched his gut, and tumbled to the floor, clinging to it.

"Fat as-"

"Hey, leave him alone!" A girl of medium build with bright green hair jostled her way through the two.

"Hey Terry." The tall one cooed, leaning down into her face, which twisted with revulsion. "Awe, I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"Yeah, happy to see you go." She spat, shoving him away. "Go get a life, jerk."

"What, you don't like me anymore?" A pathetic lie of a pouting face. Dib stared up, utterly shocked. He watched as the girl calmed herself, closing her eyes momentarily then reopened them, staring with the blankest stare one could muster. The other student frowned, and backed away, turning sharply. "Come on." He muttered to his henchman, who scuttled after him.

"You like him?" Dib gasped.

"No. Well… I did for a little while in middle school, and he was a complete jerk about it, so I moved on. I guess he just can't accept that." She bent over, offering a hand.

He took it, stumbling to his feet. "Why did you help me?"

She shrugged. "Because I felt like it, I guess." Her eyes scanned him over, although she was much shorter than he. "What's going on there?" she asked, poking his stomach. He slapped her hand away, squinting, and she glanced at the ground. "Right… sorry." She glanced back up, but her gaze stopped at his stomach, curious. "Would…." She trailed off, looking at her feet again.

"I honestly couldn't tell you." He mumbled, rubbing his eyelids with his fingers. He looked down at her, and she was still shying away. "My name's Dib, by the way. I'm a junior paranormal investigator."

"A what?"

"Junior paranormal investigator… you know, ghosts, big foot?"

"Oh…." A moment of silence, and he held his breath, just waiting for her to dis him. But to his surprise, she said perkily "Cool. So, what's your whole view on the whole UFO and USO thing?"

"USO?"

"Unidentified submerged object."

"Well…." The two began chatting heartily. Dib found out that she was in Gaz's grade, and despite her quick warm-up to him, was usually quiet and creative, the saxophone player in a local garage band "Twerp Cows". The only thing about her he couldn't understand was why on earth she would agree to use the title 'Twerp Cows' as a band name.


	3. Blood Soaked Pages

All IZ and JTHM characters belong to Jhonen. Terry and man-eating minnie tiny weenie rolls are mine... well... minnie tiny weenies and associated holidays are T's... but none the less! Oh, and by the way, forgive me. I didn't realize my page breaks weren't showing up. But I think I've figured out how to do them so they dont disapear into an abyss, please inform me, and I'll try to fix the other chapters as well. EDITS! Oh, and also, this isn't a ZADR. If anyone thought it was, I'm sorry.

--

"Dib! I've got something for you!" He sat upright, having been dozing during lunch yet again. Groggily, he blinked, and then looked up into the frown over his head. "Hello? Earth to Dib." A sheet of crisp computer paper was being waved back and forth before his nose.

Sitting up, he yawned, and took the paper from her hands. It had been about three and a half weeks since he'd met Terry, and she was becoming a great friend. She even agreed to help him expose Zim, although it was in very subtle ways. He couldn't blame her. She received at least twelve insults a day just for befriending him. She'd never be his spokesperson or advertiser… but it was nice to have someone there to sneak alien-related photos into his textbooks.

His chocolate brown eyes scanned the page, and his lips twisted slightly. "Uh… this isn't about Zim." He said, squinting at the typed print. Sure enough, the letters didn't budge, and the long essay continued on another sheet stapled to the first.

"Um… yeah… it's not." She mumbled, staring down at the ground.

"What is it then?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in her direction. He watched as her face turned a deep crimson, and he continued reading on. "Well?"

"It's a diagnostic."

"For what?"

"Bigfoot versus shadow people things."

"Why'd you give me this?"

"Well, you are the expert." He rolled his eyes – he was well aware she knew what he was asking. She stared at her hands, which were fingering the edge of the lunch table. "I don't know. I've been seeing a lot of weird stuff in my yard."

"Ah… I'll be over tonight to check it out… hey, what's this?"

"What's what?" Her face went from confusion to terror as she leaned over him, her face white. She snatched the sheet out of his hands, but he soon gained grip on it again. "That shouldn't be in there." She said quickly, attempting to pull the offending page from his clasp.

"I stare at them, stare and stare. But even so, I'm without care. Is it sin? Or do I win? I have something they don't? Or is it something they won't?" he read in a whisper only audible to her and maybe Gaz who sat across from them, and he became amused as Terry began whining as she tugged at his fingers, attempting to pry them apart. But he began frowning as he began reading the next lines, his cheeks becoming pink. "I want to tell him he's caged. My friend, he'll burn in my rage - my hatred towards those who jeer, my scowls towards the girls who cheer. I'm an ugly beast, gnarled and withered. He's young and innocent, and should not follow hither. His path is broad, mine narrow. I'm a root and he's a sparrow."

Alas, before he could finish, she pulled his hair. He let out a shriek, and dropped the papers, and she hurriedly gathered them together.

"Hey, that was about me, wasn't it?" he asked, reaching for her book bag, which she shoved her work into.

"Stop." She said stiffly.

"Why?"

"Just stop, okay?" she yelped, "I'm going to the library. Follow me and I'll rip your kidneys out and tie them around your neck like a scarf!" Jerking her bag up, made a mad dash towards the cafeteria door.

He couldn't help smirking a bit, though – she had the most terrible habit of forgetting to zip her backpack.

Once she had gone, he collected the papers left strewn behind, and managed to hide them away in a hidden pocket of his trench coat just before the bell rang for class. "That was cold, Dib." His sister said as they struggled through the cluttered hall.

"Yeah I know." He said contentedly.

"Have fun losing the only friend you've ever had… jerk." She said, turning into her classroom. Dib stopped, staring at the crowd about him, reflecting dreadfully on her words. A small voice in the back of his head began nagging him in her place.

His response to it was only a half-heartedly said "Psh. Yeah right."

* * *

'August 28. When I gaze in the mirror, I hate what I see. I know what I know… but I can't share it – I can't save anybody. Not even with my new friend – especially not him. It's frightening, what I saw last year, and I know it'll continue to scream at me for the rest of my pathetic miserable life. There was too much blood, too much to be scared of. And that was only the beginning. The man's going back to his house soon. I wish his boat quest had lasted longer. The boy who lives next door to the man – I'm scared for him. He's vulnerable, and though he assures me that the hell-man wouldn't hurt him, I still have my doubts. I saw too much that night… and I still remember that voice. The voice from the dark brown-red wall, the color of a wilted rose. I want to puke so bad-'

"Dib, put those papers away and look at your textbook!"

"Yes Ms. Bitters." He stuttered, shoving the papers into his lap. He knew he was pale, that the hairs on the back of his neck were arise with excitement, that his bottom lip was nearly blistered. He was about to embark on some paranormal mystery – he could taste it. Terry knew something he didn't… and he really wanted to know. He already had an imaginary ten dollars set on a vampire. The teenager opened his book, and as Ms. Bitters turned about, he slipped the papers between the pages. But before he began reading again, something pecked on his skull.

He unfolded the plane on his desk, staring blandly at the scrawling of 'Your plans are foolish, Dib worm!' in the center. Refolding it, he jotted 'Returned to sender for his lack of intelligence' on the left wing then chucked it behind him, snickering as it pierced his target's eyeball.

The papers in his book were forgotten until two minutes before class ended.

* * *

'Clnk, clnk, clnk.' Stone rapped against glass. A movement in the curtains, as if someone had been gazing out, then a long moment of silence. Finally, the door swung open with a deafening high-pitched creak. Shoulders cringed, and eyes were momentarily jammed tight.

"Hey Terry." He said light heartedly, grinning at the girl who stood in the doorway. No such joy spread across her face, as she stared blandly at him. From a distance, it would look like she was simply irritated. But as he watched her fingers tensely curl and uncurl, he could sense her livid emotions threatening to consume her actions. 'Oh please don't let me get throttled by the neck today.' He prayed silently, and nervously stepped around her as she gestured to the inside of her abode… which she shared with many others. Such was the fate of an apartment dweller. "So… uh… where's Bigfoot?" he asked eagerly. But instead of an answer, he was shoved into the costumer service counter, which had been abandoned an hour before.

"You idiot! I'm not stupid. Give me back my journal pages." She hissed, fingers balled around his jacket collar.

"I thought you'd want those." He reached into one of his pockets to retrieve the pages.

"How much did you read?"

"Nothing."

"Dib!"

"Only about the guy who's coming back to his house!"

His caramel eyes rested on the fist that hovered between his eyes, and the anger but hesitancy behind them. Finally, the knuckles were lowered, but the papers were ripped brutally from his hand. "Don't investigate." She said icily, and then paced the dim room. The sun had yet to fully go down, casting a tiny bit of light into the sky, but still invisible, leaving the sky a deep cloudless, starless indigo. "I should be beating the pulp out of you."

"But you wouldn't." he said sweetly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He'd seen her fight once before, and though a bit cumbersome, she wasn't half bad. But often, she'd consider then contain herself. She knew how to pick her battles, but always gave her offenders and oddly bland, almost emotionless gaze that sent them whimpering. He'd know – she'd used it on him. It was creepy, having someone violently attack with nothing but a gaze.

"I could, though." She added, and Dib sighed in relief as he heard her well natured side returning. She tossed him a small smirk. "So, why are you so late?"

"It's not so late."

"Seven twenty." He shrugged, a lock of jet hair falling before his eyes. "Just hurry up. Here's the key to the backyard." A ring containing two keys jangled as it was set in his palm, their gold coats shining up at him. Her "backyard", or the inn's garden, was not much more than spindly trees, shrubs, and deformed statues – most likely donations from the local satanic cult. Her green eyes met his brown ones. "We've got about fifteen minutes before someone realizes that I stuck a wad of gum over the camera. So make it quick."

Dib nodded, and shouldering a duffel bag, set out to embark his quest.

Three camera implants, two inspections, and one run in with a zombie squirrel, Dib returned into the building. Out of the fifteen given minutes, he had used thirty, so it wasn't quite a shock when he found Terry conversing with the night guard. Silently, he slipped against the shadows of a wall, listening.

"I'm really sorry. I tried to get it off earlier, but it wouldn't come. And I didn't want to get in trouble. Ernie… you know I didn't – wouldn't – do anything!" The guard, a large husky black male who seemed much too large for his blue uniform, scratched the end of his goatee.

"I still don't understand how you could accidentally get a wad of gum on a camera."

"I was gagging on it and I managed to spit it out.' She mumbled weakly.

"Uhuh."

"Okay, I was kissing a boy. Please don't tell my mom, she'll kill me!"

The man, who seemed in his early forties, chuckled and clapped her shoulder. "Fine, just make sure the gum gets off the camera ok? And no more sleep walking!"

"Yes Ernie." The young teenager walked towards the garden door, imitating a swagger of weariness. It was a truly pitiful attempt, but Ernie seemed content and returned to his duties. As she passed, Terry grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him into the night air. Her eyes searched his as she shoved him against the wall. "Dib, I swear. You're going to get me kicked out if you keep this up!"

"Hey, I tried my best!"

"I said fifteen minutes! I told Ernie I was making out with someone! Do you have any idea how lame it feels to say that? What on Earth took you so long?"

"Zim set a zombie squirrel on me!"

"A what?" She blinked, and he shrugged sheepishly. "That's… interesting." She released him, raising an eyebrow. "Just don't do it again, ok? I'm serious, if Ernie finds out we're planting cameras around, I'll have to live in a box."

"You're welcome at my house."

"Uh, no."

"Right." He leaned against one of the gnarled skinny trees, but found it hard to balance his weight against it. She leaned against the wall, basking in the breeze. Eventually she snapped a twig off a shrub and began poking it at the gum on the camera. But her eyes lay upon him again, and she frowned.

"Hey Dib?"

"Mmm?" he questioned lazily, watching as a couple of strands of hair fell over his vision.

"Ask your dad about stomach tumors."

"What?"

"I'm serious." She frowned, leaning forward, pointing her stick at him. "I don't need my best friend dying because he wouldn't get his ever-inflating stomach checked out. Look, I saw a show a while back about a kid who was supposed to have a twin, but it ended up in his guts before they were developed. So the kid went around fat as a pregnant lady because this parasitic thing was in his tum."

Dib stared, mouth hanging open a bit. "You think I've got some sort of dead thing in my guts?" he asked, about to burst out laughing. "You're joking…."

"No! Really! That isn't normal! If you were a normal fat guy, you'd have a bunch of rolls all over your neck and legs and arms! But you're like a stick everywhere but your belly!"

"That's just-"

"Please, just let him have a look at it." She whispered softly, eyes shifting in the darkening night. He could sense her tensing, and she was no longer concentrated on the conversation at hand. "Let's get in." she said suddenly, pushing him ahead as a wind began blowing.

"What? Why? We just got out here."

She hastily plucked the gum off the surveillance camera, and shoved him indoors. "I'm serious, Dib. You need to get home now! If your not home in ten minutes, you need to stay in the lobby."

"Huh?"

"This side of town isn't safe. Get home now!" She shoved him out the apartment door, and he stood alone in the cool night, staring at the wood before him.

Slowly, he turned, and hesitantly made his way into the darkness.

* * *

Dib stared into the pitch sky. His heart humped wildly. None of the street signs made any sense at this point. Nothing was familiar in the night. He couldn't tell his right from his left any longer. Lost and weary, he slid onto a bench near a bus stop, not even stopping to ponder the lack of vehicles on the street he was on.

There were no stars, no moon, only a thick layer of clouds, sweet Luna struggling to filter light through them. Tiredly, he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. Once he had it, he began groggily dialing that number.

"Nice phone." Dib paused mid-dial and gritted his teeth nervously as his face met that of a rather skimpy homeless man, his brown tattered coat collecting around his ankles. The man gave him a large troublesome grin, and the teenage boy was disgusted at the morbid black decay between the few remaining yellow spikes. "You come 'round often?" The man slid a greasy hand over his shoulder and Dib's back arched as his nerves piped high, insisting on making a mad dash.

"Uh… no sir…."

"Too bad." Dib became squeamish as fingers laced his collar bone.

"L-look, if you don't mind, I'll be going now." 'I don't feel like dealing with Michael Jackson's side kick.' He was tempted to add this last thought, but forced himself to swallow it.

"Oh, but I do mind." Dib bolted up, and grunted as his wrist was sharply pulled. "You're worth a lot of money, boy, you know that?"

"You know Professor Membrane is my dad? Nobody knows I'm Professor Membrane's son!"

"Who's Membrane?" Dib sighed at the irony then gagged as the homeless man caressed his chin.

"Let go, you psycho!" he yelled, pushing away. He turned on his heal, sprinting, but was pursued. He heard each footfall upon the black granite of the road he ran across, panting as he stumbled into darkness. Sweat rolled down his forehead, as he listened to the approaching rasping.

Then, suddenly, a sharp pain in his stomach. He gasped, nearly screaming, and crumpled to his knees, shaking as he clutched the unbearable ache. He watched as a shadow swallowed his own, and stared at the pavement.

But a third shadow joined. Dib's eyes snapped wide, as he felt a hot liquid steaming on his back. Red dripped down his sides. Momentarily, he feared for his own health, but realized that no pain – not even a hint – had been inflicted upon him. Slowly, he turned his gaze upwards.

The homeless man's chest was skewered on the blade of a knife, his face contorted in agony. Behind him, a grinning man wearing mostly black, with a haircut that must have originated from Hades, two flopping scythe-things growing off his scalp. He looked mad, covered in blood and… some kind of slushy. Both red fluids stained his clothing, both dripping off his gloves.

Dib shoved his glasses up his nose and shakily scrambled out from underneath the corpse. "Uh… thanks? I guess." he muttered shyly as the man noticed him, seeming a bit surprised, as if he hadn't noticed him the whole time.

"Not yet." He said, using his foot to pry the corpse off his weapon, and stalked towards Dib. Dib yelped as the knife slashed out towards his throat.

But as it was inches from his throat, a blinding emerald light surrounded him, and he struggled, gagging as his lungs slowed and his vision began speckling black, until finally, he fell cold.

--

Hey guys, chill out! Dib's not dead! I swear my nose on it! Wait...


	4. Shattered

Hey guys! So, after rewriting the fourth and fifth chapter, I've finally posted the fourth. I still have abit of work to do on the fifth, but that should be posted soon. Although I have the general idea of where the story is going, I'd like to see the opinions you guys have. So, questions to readers - 1) Which way would you like to see Terry and Dib's relationship to go? 2) Should Minimoose make an appearance? 3) Would you prefer a happy ending, or one of devasation and sadness? Thanks guys, especially for the reviews! You're all so great!

* * *

"Dib-stink… Dib-beast…."

"Da big headed kid is all sleepy 'n stuff!" a long squeaky drawl hummed. "I think he's been humpin' the lawn gnomes!"

"Humping the… Gir, you're no longer allowed to watch these 'soap operas.'"

"But… but… I gotsa see if Leena marries Kyle! No! Masta' don't do dis to mees!"

"Alright, alright, just release my leg! Ah! Your tears! They burn!"

"Masta', why you gots to take my soap away, whys?"

"Ah! Get off me, get off! Ah!"

Lashes slowly, languidly blinked. Then much more quickly, and a great gasp as the boy sucked in oxygen, heaving himself into a sitting position whistle holding his throat, coughing. It took a moment of the buzzing in his ears to register the screams of pain coming from before him. Squinting, he patted the ground in search for his glasses to no avail. "Zim?" he asked.

"Ah! Dib, save me! My flesh! It burns like yellow Gla'shnerk goop! Ah!"

Dib had no idea why he was anywhere near Zim, or what yellow Gla'shnerk was. "What?" he asked, dumbstruck.

"Gir, get off!"

"My soap!"

"Gir... hey Gir, where are my glasses?"

"Four feet east of current location, sir!"

"Could you… uh… get them for me?"

"Affirmative!" Dib's vision went from a haze to a bright, bold, yet oddly dingy world. He gazed at the robot, whose eyes were abnormally red, saluting him. But within moments, the crimson became aqua, and Gir giggled madly. "You been humpin my gnome friends!"

"I what?"

"Hey, how come you listened to that… putrid… worm… squiggly thing, but not me?" Zim shouted, the color of his face darkening as he balled his fists before pointing between the robot's eyes.

"Cause he's got fruity chocolate beans in 'im!"

Both youths – alien and human – stared at the little robot, blinking as it began doing the electric slide across the green lawn.

"Uh… anyway… what are you going on my lawn?" Zim snarled, shoving Dib's collar blade. The young earthling's face paled considerably, and his eye twitched. Zim growled, and then stared in confusion. "Dib… why are you turning green?"

The following scene was icky and full of sticky stomach goo. It will not be described, simply because of the mischief one can only imagine Gir achieved with the ample amounts of vile waste.

"Get your stomach juices off my lawn!" Zim shouted once the boy had ended his assault, flabbergasted.

"Uh-huh…." Dib muttered, stumbling upwards, clutching his stomach. Zim squinted in disgust, poking his belly. "Why aren't you blasting me with a laser or something?"

"Fool, I am Irken! When you are eligible to fight, then I shall crush you like a squirrel crushes an acorn!" The alien boy glanced at the neighbors staring at him from across the street. He waved awkwardly and said "Yup, just a normal human stink boy! Yup, I sure am!" He grimaced as the fat man scratch his bum, and then lowered his gaze to glare at Dib again. "You and your jiggly worm-baby, off my property! Now!"

"My what?" Db nearly screamed.

"I wanna be a worm-baby! Take me! Take me!" Gir squealed, springing up from his… uh… mush castle….

"Your worm-baby, earth monkey. You can't fool me, I know it's in there. It'll be your smelly spawn and will moronically chase me with a stupid haircut for all eternity!" Zim yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his nemesis's stomach.

"Hey! I'm not pregnant! I'm not even female!" Dib protested, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Haha, very funny Earth-monkey. I've researched well into humans, and am familiar with your 'impregs'. Now off my lawn!" Dib yelped as a laser beam strayed past his jaw. Spinning on his heel, he made a mad dash off the little green man's property. "And don't come back until your jiggly stops spewing goop all over!"

"Can I ask a question before I go?" Dib shouted from the other side of the street.

"What?"

"How does Gir cry if he's a robot?"

The Irken, tapped his chin, an antenna cocked under his toupee. Finally, after looking from Dib to Gir for a few minutes, he shrugged his shoulder, and dragged the filthy robot into the house, not even noticing the brown fluid dripping after them.

Dib stared in disgust as the purple door ornamented with a green bathroom sign slammed shut, chunky tracks leading straight into it. He began walking back to his house, nervous about the disturbing previous night, when the door creaked open and Gir screamed "See you at skool Dibby!"

"Gir, get in here now!"

"Yay!"

"Ah! I'm late!" Dib shouted after glancing at his watch, and completely forgetting his other dramas, ran full speed ahead towards the dingy building of useless and boring knowledge. For if he didn't make it to class on time, Ms. Bitters would kill him – literally.

* * *

Heaving with every breath, pale and slumped, a straggly teenager stumbled unto the grounds of a looming gray building. He jostled his way through the crowds of students to the steps leading up to the door. He collapsed upon them, beads of sweat descending down the side of his face.

He allowed his head to flop to the side to gaze at the other students. They were a motley student body – there were so many cliques you could make an ugly floral print with all the different styles. But one group in particular caught his eye. Among three other girls, one bookish, two bubbly (not preppy, simply always cheerful) as all hell, was a fourth. A rather short girl with turquoise hair and green eyes, caught in a smile. A smile he had never seen before.

It felt like a rock – or rather, a boulder – hit the bottom of his stomach. His eyes searched over her, and watched as a boy joined the group, and his dear friend squealed in delight, nearly suffocating him. She became caught in some gibberish chatter, her face pure excitement. Dib felt his own fist curl, and it took him quite a few moments to notice it. He stared at it for several minutes. "No – I am not jealous." He told himself firmly, but with an undertone of hurt. 'Why is it that she never smiles at me like that? I'm her friend too… aren't I?'

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became, and thus coldness began pulling the string of friendship – the single string. He watched as her eye caught his, and she gave a smile, and continued to talk to her large, tall, tanned friend. Dib glanced down again at his own fingers, spindly and pale. And at the odd protrude of his belly, which he wanted to single-handedly carve out with a knife.

So caught up in his self-pity he was, he was shocked when he heard a concerned voice next to him say "You're early. Where's your backpack?"

Coldly, he glared at Terry as she waved to her tall friend, who was leaving campus. "I didn't know you were into guys who ditched school." Dib said hotly, attempting to burn a hole in the stone steps they sat on.

"Huh?" Terry blinked, and frowned. "No, I'm not. But Mex doesn't even go to this school."

"Too old or too young?"

"No, he's in the same grade. By the way, I can't help you with Zim this afternoon. I'm meeting Mex at Starcluck's later." She narrowed her eyes as he began furling his fingers. "What?"

"So you're ditching me for Starcluck's with prince charming? You don't even like coffee…."

"I'm not ditching you!"

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"I don't have to." Terry stood up, a scowl upon her features. She pointed at him. "You know what your problem is, Dib? You get so obsessive, and then you get possessive! I'm allowed to have other friends besides you."

"I'm not obsessive!"

"You stole and read my journal papers!"

"What was I supposed to do, feed them to Keef?"

"You could have given them back between classes!"

"Oh, go hang out with your clique."

"Maybe I should! At least when we hang out, they do other things besides forcing me to spy on their pet aliens all the time! I mean, I don't mind giving you hints on Zim, but there are other things I like to do, too. Maybe play a video game or watch a movie or pull pranks on the people at Abrcombie and Fritz. Half the time, I don't even feel like I'm your friend – more like your dog!" His face paled considerably, and he dug his nails into his palms.

"Please, just shut up."

"Fine." she whipped around, and began walking away, but stopped to mention "Tell me when you're ready to stop treating me like your henchman."

Just like that, Dib watched as the friendship he had groped for all his life simply stalked away. His eyes began burning a bit, and he stared at his knees, gritting his teeth. He was at a mixture of pure loathing and pain at the same time. Slowly, he stood as the bell rang, the students pouring past him. He walked in the opposite direction of the crowd, biting his lip when Terry simply ignored him as he passed.

He stopped as a green boy stepped in front of him. A shark-toothed grin was spread across those emerald cheeks. "Dib monkey, you shall pay for your intrusion this morning. With my scheme, Ms. Bitters will give you the worst grade of your life today!"

"It won't work."

"Eh? Why not?"

"I'm not going to school today." Wearily, Dib elbowed past the Irken and his green dog, leaving them to stare at him.

* * *

He continued down the sidewalk, wind nipping his heels as the morning clouds taunted the sun overhead. Silently, he slid into the park, nestling in the crook of a two trees, and stared blandly. The stress of Zim's height, alien abductions, bulging stomachs, midnight murders, more abductions, and just recently losing his only friend set in, causing a buzzing in his head as he wrestled with his emotions.

He glared down at his stomach, clenching his teeth. He dragged his curled fingers down the side of it, heart thumping madly. "Video games… movies… how am I supposed to save the world with those?" in truth, though, the idea was a bit appealing, and he felt desperately guilty. "I'd never get anything done." Yet those activities weren't too much to ask for…. He slumped, burying his face in his hands as a migraine swelled in his forehead.

Dib let out a shaky sigh. "Gaz was right… I am a jerk…." Why was it that Gaz was always right?

* * *

Zim glanced around the lunchroom. Sure enough, Dib was absent, his sister playing videogames quite alone. His other friend – the one with turquoise hair – was nowhere to be seen, either… unless, of course, one squinted at the very back corner where a group of students was cheering on a boy sucking chocolate milk up his nose. Zim blinked, captivated by the oddity himself for a moment, before shoving through the crowd.

The girl, Terry, nearly jumped as he grasped her wrist, tugging her away from the crowd. "What the heck! Let me go! Owe- stop! That hurts!" With much struggling, Zim managed to haul her to an abandoned table. She tore her arm away the moment he loosened his grip, and he noticed that her skin had turned red he had been clutching it so tightly. She glared up. "Zim, you don't have to maim me to get me to come."

"Oh, but I do."

"You're an alien with at least ten different lasers in that back-pack of yours. I don't think I'd be ignoring your requests anytime soon." She growled, shoving her hand into the pouch of her jacket. "What?"

"Where is the Dib?" Zim snarled.

"What am I, his keeper?"

"You are his information retriever."

"I'm not. That's why I told him off this morning." She glanced around, raising an eyebrow. She stood on her toes, glancing over heads. "You mean he's not here? I didn't think he'd take it that horribly…."

"Of course he would."

"Eh?"

"You are the only… friend-" Zim nearly spat as he said the word, "That the stinky cow monster has ever had. Very pathetic for a worm-beast."

"Oh…." Terry drawled, blinking, but she frowned. "That still doesn't give him the right to treat me like shit, though. When he decides he'd like to actually be a friend, maybe I'll consider returning the favor."

"Yes, yes, that is all well. Just make sure he no longer pukes on my lawn."

"What?"

"He was on my lawn this morning spilling his sticky belly juices unto my precious weeds of doom!" Zim yelled, flinging his arms in the air. "And if you don't mind, I'd like you to find him. I had an ingenious plot of vengeance! Obey!"

The girl before him glanced across the lunchroom. "Uh… sure…." She muttered, walking away. "I'll find him." But as Zim pumped his fists, she snarled at the thought of actually having to face Dib again, not quite over her steam yet.

"Hey Gaz." Terry slid into the seat across the table from the mean little girl. Gaz raised an eyebrow, the only sign that she was remotely conscious behind her video game. "Uh… where's Dib."

"Don't know – I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"What?"

"Didn't you two have a sleep over or something?" Gaz asked icily.

"No! Seriously, Gaz, was he home last night?"

"I just said no. Or are you as stupid as he is? Better watch out – I think it's contagious." The violet haired girl hissed venomously, and Terry stumbled to her feet, genuinely concerned.

"You're sure he didn't go home?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?" the other female groaned. Gaz didn't, though, as Terry grabbed her book bag and made a charge out the door.

* * *

A long sigh – creeping sun on slightly damp cheeks warmed the whole body, sending a shiver down it. Lashes were closed, peaceful expression like a mask on a face. Fingers laced with dandelions on the ground, constant gentle breathing. A bask in the light of warmth, radiation ear to ear, reflecting off slightly ajar glass in frames. Untidy hair, strange scent, yet altogether serene.

Then panting – panting, then a long sigh of relief. Fingers on the bony shoulder. Name whispered once – twice. Anger, pity, relief in one bottle gazed across the peaceful figure - anger, pity, relief melting to adoration. Knuckles softly swept against slightly damp cheeks, around closed eyes, into jet hair. A small twist of a smile on cherubic face reflects upon that of the pleased.

Eyes flutter open, sun gleaming in pupils. Knuckles jerked away. Surprise, fear, upset from interrupt peace… but the sharpness in the eyes gazing down washed this away, surprise and fear becoming anger.

"Dib." Terry sternly addressed the agitated boy before her, and unsuccessfully attempted to jerk him up by the shirt collar, and he grinned slyly at her failure. Her cheeks darkened with loss of dignity, but she persisted. "What are you doing? You should be in school!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed." He replied sarcastically, and grasped the wrist clutching the fabric of his shirt, tossing it aside. He turned his head, attempting to hide his still damp cheeks.

"I already figured you'd been crying, moron." She muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Gee, I guess I should award you some kind of trophy, huh?"

"Cram it."

"I promise to put it next to your grave when Zim blasts you to bits."

"Not if he gets you first."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Her face grew hot, and she managed to fight past his swatting to grasp hold of his dark blue t-shirt. "Why don't you go curl up in a corner and cut yourself or something? Huh? Who knows, maybe Zim will invite me to some party once you've killed yourself!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you get it? You idiot! You think you look so brave, marching into battle! But to tell you the truth, you just look stupid! Even if the whole world knew about your pet alien, you'd still look stupid!" Her face darkened, and he watched as her fist trembled. "You're one man – no, boy – going up against a being with far better technology, connections to who knows how many other aliens, and a damn lot of luck! You never plan or take precautions! Everything is short-term! And one day, all you're little games will fall to pieces. One day, a trigger will be pulled, and you'll fall to the ground. And maybe then, in the very end, you'll realize that the whole reason you stupidly went about schemes that were formed in a mere three or four hours, was only because you wanted acceptance among your own kind. Maybe then, when you're taking your last breaths, you will think 'Gee, maybe I should have lived while I was alive.'"

"At least you won't fall with me, huh?" he replied venomously, still absorbing her monologue.

"True, but in your final hour, that won't be what you're thinking of. Because you never have thought of anyone but yourself." He made to argue, but she shook her head. "No, you say you want to save the world. You say it's to protect your dad and your sister. You say it's to keep alien invaders from crippling our society. But in the end, it all comes back to you. If you were a real hero, you'd think before you act, savor your allies instead of just using and manipulating them, and find a better motive than 'so the world will know I'm not crazy.'"

He glared as she roughly pushed him before turning on her heel. He gazed, pushing the rim of his glasses higher up his nose. The leaves of coming autumn billowed loosely in the wind about Terry, as she made her way to the crisp sidewalk under the elms. Squirrels darted to the side to avoid human contact, and the sun crisply gleamed off the top of her turquoise hair. Dib pulled his trench coat a bit tighter, squinting. "Where are you going?" She turned around.

"Well, considering I wasted a whole day figuring out where you were, I'll go take care of some neighborhood issues too blow off some steam. Who knows, maybe I'll be in the paper… the obituary, at least." She said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

He did the same, sitting upright. "So… this is it?"

"Yeah."

"No more team Terry and Dib."

"Uh-huh."

He stared at the grass, still green, not yet trampled by fall. He wished desperately he could be as strong as it was. His dark eyes flashed, as he lowered his head. "I guess…." The wind tussled his scythe haircut, and he listened to her footfalls as she turned once more and walked away. Closing his eyes, he shoved his face into his palms, suppressing a scream.

* * *

"Uhn…." Dib moaned, attempting to roll over in his bed. The sky was a deep navy hue, the moon casting a square of blue light into his shadowy domain. He cringed as his head knocked into the wooden side-table. Grudgingly, he rubbed the spot of impact, and moaned. "Will I get any sleep?" he mumbled groggily, and reached about for the lamp. He managed to grasp it… and winced as he heard it hit the ground. He quickly retracted, and listened for any disturbance in the silence of the house. There was none.

He didn't dare try to crawl out of bed in the dark to retrieve the lamp – not when Gaz was right down the hall, anyway. One wrong sound and she could barge in thrashing and cursing, threatening to kill him for disturbing her slumber. He chuckled gently – she was rather like a dragon in that regard.

The young teenage boy stared at the ceiling, folding his arms under his head. His heart felt heavy, and sunken toward the very pit of his stomach. He regretted… oh did he regret. It had been two days since the only friendship he had ever known had been torn into millions of tiny little microscopic pieces. A day and a half to be precise, though, considering Terry had found him moping in the evening the day before. He skipped school yet again afterward, claiming to have stomach discomforts… which he did. Most of the morning he spent pitying himself, the afternoon hating himself for feeling sorry for himself when he caused most of his hurt, the evening trying with no avail to write an apology letter, and the night… well… by eight, all his negativity caused him to be weary.

But now, at near midnight, he laid awake, reminiscing on the good times he and his ex-friend had… and realizing that there hadn't been enough. He was about to close his eyes and drift into memory-lane as his cell phone began buzzing. Dib was intelligent enough to keep it on vibrate throughout the night as not to wake his sister.

Grouchily, he reached for it as it glowed and whirred. In the light it created, he was able to see what had happened to his lamp, which seemed nearly snapped in two. "Who the heck is calling this late?" he asked himself, thumbing he answer key, and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hello." The voice sounded frantic and nerve-wracked. He sat up a bit, a frowned stitched across his face. "Who is this?"

"This is Dib."

"Are you a friend of Terry?"

"Uh…." He blinked, the light of the device casting across his confused pale face.

"Are you?" The person on the other end, who he guessed to be female, sounded horrified.

"Um, yeah, sort of. Why?" He squinted, wishing he had glanced at the number before he had answered. "Who is this?"

"This is Terry's mother."

"H…How'd you get this number, mam?"

"I'm using her cell phone, you're one of her contacts." He squinted into the dark, sitting up fully. This was… unusual.

"Excuse me, what's wrong?"

"Bid, right?"

'Dib."

"Dib, do you have any idea where Terry is?" He froze, his fingers growing numb. He remembered her words the previous day about the obituary.

"How long has she been gone?"

"Since yesterday. Is she staying at a friend's house? Do you know?"

"Um… no." He tightened his grip on the phone, and somehow his other hand found its way to his sheets, twisting them. "Did she take anything with her?"

"No. Nothing." The woman sounded like she was about to break down. "There wasn't a mention or a note, or even a sign. She was happy one day, then the next, she's gone!"

"Have you called the authorities?"

"Yes."

Dib ran his fingers through his hair. "Don't worry, mam, I'll find her."

"You don't-"

"I swear I'll find her." He assured quickly, and ended the call. He sat in bed several minutes, shivering, twisting his sheets. Then slowly and quietly, he stumbled upwards and turned on the light in his room, one which was hardly ever used. Dib nearly attacked his desk, ravaging it until he found a map of the city and surrounding areas. Grasping a red marker, he circled Terry's neighborhood, cautious to stay within the exact boundaries.

He then grabbed a duffel bag, and into it shoved his laptop, one of his father's old cloaking devices, a rope, his cell phone, flashlight, and a pocket knife one of his father's colleagues had bought him that he had never used. Another glance at the map - he only had a vague idea of where to start.

Her diary pages – a man and a house.


	5. Victim of a Steel Blade

Yay! I finally perfected this chapter! Thank you for reading, guys. I hope the story becomes pleasingly twisted and warped for you!

* * *

Knuckles against wood sounded hollowly. A groggy yell and a deafening creak as the door was pried open. "Wha da yeah wan…." A voice slurred. Dib winced, but threw his shoulders back none the less, and met the fat Hispanic - or possibly Irish, or a combination of the two - man eye to eye.

"I'm looking for Terry."

"Terry? Yeah mean da girl that orders all da' minni tiny weenie rolls?"

"You know her? Green hair, about this high?" Dib made a gesture towards the center of his chest – about where Terry stood.

"Yea… I work down a' da place… she come in, order a bunch of minni tiny weenie roos… can't get 'nough of 'em… nobody can!" The man chortled before he broke out into a coughing fit, spit flying all about. Dib cringed and ducked to the left, narrowly avoiding the offending yellow mucus.

"Does she ever mention a certain location around here to stay away from?"

"Uh… no… but I see her walkin' down the street with her binoculars… ask ole' Ergal! 'E'll know." The man coughed some more, pointing somewhere diagonal of his property. Dib followed the plump finger, and was about to ask which house, but the door slammed shut behind him before he could even turn around.

The young boy glanced up at the night sky, stars twinkling like the delicate lace of a spider web in the black satin above. He'd have to go home soon… his father would be creeping up to his room any minute to murmur 'My poor insane son.' into the darkness before he left for work. He crossed the street, walking up to one of the two possible houses the man could have been pointing to.

He knocked, and waited. Time sluggishly rolled by, and impatiently, he knocked again, louder. The door swung open, and a rather insane looking woman swung the door open. "What?" she screamed, her hair frizzy and awry about her head. "What the hell do you want this early? It's three AM!"

Dib didn't blink. "I'm looking for Terry. About this high, short messy green-blue hair-"

"Yeah, sure, I saw her drift through my house at three in the morning while I was asleep. Yup." The woman said in irritation. She softened in the tiniest bit, though, as he clutched his head, pulling his jet hair. "What, is she your girlfriend or something? Don't worry, you're not the only one who's gotten lost serenading under windows-"

"What?" he shouted, utterly shocked. He panicked, skin turning white as he thought of that possibility. "Girlfriend? No… no… it's not like that!"

"Awe, how cute. You're nervous." She said, rolling her eyes, although one wiggled about loosely. It was far too creepy to be any normal lazy eye. "Kid, just get off my property. There will be other nights to find the right window. Now goodnight!" She slammed the door in his face, which was paler than usual, and a bit sweaty.

"That… was weird." he stuttered, and shaking his head, stumbled home across drab granite road, attempting to ignore the pangs in his stomach. He'd have to continue his search after Gaz was awake, fed, and tended to. Musingly, to calm his own nerves, he commented to himself in a jittery voice "Who knows, maybe I'll even have time to solve the case of the missing puppy."

* * *

Dib just barely made it back in time for Membrane's morning room-check, and afterward took a few hours to rest before a fist was slammed into his groin as Gaz demanded breakfast.

He made the usual eggs, bacon, and pizza, and watched as she hungrily devoured it before going on her epic quest to figure out where she last left her Gameslave – a quest dangerous for him to intervene with. Once she had it, she plopped unto the couch and began the tedious process of distancing herself further from reality. He couldn't blame her. By this point, it was safe for him to grab a bowl of cereal, eat half of it, and announce his leave.

The young junior paranormal investigator never actually knew if his sister ever heard or not. But she didn't complain as he grabbed his duffel bag and once again set out to the hellish neighborhood.

* * *

"Um… Mr. Ergal?" Dib asked, stopping in front of the house he had previously delayed visiting. The woman next door to the quaint little home was in her yard, watering the wilting flowers, eyeing him suspiciously. At the little cute blue house, on the porch, was a man in a great oak rocking chair, tilting back and forth. It was strange, for the neighborhood nearer the area Terry lived was more developed and full of ugly towers and fifteen to twenty foot buildings. Yet as one walked down the road, the houses got smaller and more personal – they were almost stereotypical 1950's-type homes. Dib tried again. "Mr. Ergal?"

"Uh? Who? Oh… hello there." The old man grinned, or at least, it seemed that he did. It was a bit difficult to tell under the great white beard framing his jaw. But his blue eyes twinkled in delight as Dib stepped forward and up the steps.

"I'm looking for Terry?"

"Who?"

"Terry. She lives in this neighborhood. She-"

"Are you pregnant?"

"No." Dib groaned, resting his forehead in his hands. "No sir, I have a tumor. But please, she-"

"You mean the little girl that strolls down the street every day?"

"With binoculars?" Dib asked hopefully, peering through his fingers.

"Is that what she carries? I can't tell from here, my vision being as bad as it is." The old man shrugged, and glanced out at the street. "Nice little girl – always remembers to wave. I call her little lettuce-top, you know."

Dib grinned gleefully – if anyone deserved that sort of cheesy name more than whom he was searching for, it was some kid in a third-world country carrying a basket of green vegetables on their head. "Yeah, that's her. Green hair, right?"

"Yup."

"Have you seen her?"

"Yup, sure did. She romped over here the other day with her binoculars. She forgot to wave, though." The old man seemed a bit crestfallen.

"Do you know where she goes?" Dib questioned gently, pitying the old man's solitude, his eyes shamefully glazing over to the woman watering the dead plants. She squinted at him, and looked rather grumpy….

"Yup. Just around the corner. Third house down on the right."

"Thank you, sir." Dib breathed, relieved. At long last, in the heat of the afternoon, he had finally figured out where on Earth he was going. He shrugged snugly into his coat despite the heat, and trudged down the road, leaving the old man to his lonely rocking and the disgruntled neighbor to her deceased hedges.

* * *

The house was a bit creepy as soon as one stepped into the drive. Something wasn't right about it… either way, Dib attempted to ignore this and knocked on the door determinedly. There was no answer.

Squinting, he banged louder. "Go away!" he heard a male from somewhere inside shout.

Dib simply pounded, nearly angry.

"What?" Dib shrunk, recognizing the man instantly. The hellish haircut, the weird logo on the t-shirt, the insane look about his features… and to top it all off, the man was holding a red slushy.

It was the killer who had, in some warped and twisted way, inadvertently saved his life from a hobo.

"W-where's Terry?" he stuttered meekly.

"Hey, you're that kid who got abducted by aliens a while back! I remember you!" The man greeted, suddenly very happy. Dib blinked, startled at the sudden change. "The skinny fat kid!"

"Yeah… um… great." He mumbled, perplexed. "Where's Terry?"

"Who?"

"Terry!" Dib felt his courage suddenly rising again, and he stood up straight. "I know she comes here – I read it in her journal, and the old man down the street said she came here the other day."

"And so what does that make you, her stalker?"

"No. Where is she?" He barked, losing his patience. Not even the sight of the hilts of knives in the man's boots could cause him to back down.

"Wait… you mean the girl who wandered unto my lot the other day?"

"No, I mean the mutant that's living in your toilet!" Dib replied dramatically, his temperature literally rising. His stomach ached horribly. The fact that the man merely blinked only added to his frustration.

"I can't tell, are you being serious?"

"No! Where is she?"

The man smirked devilishly. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know."

"Actually, I would."

The man shrugged, and began closing the door. Dib threw his weight against it, and tumbled into the middle of the living room. The door slammed shut, and he was tackled to the ground. He found that the tip of a knife had made its way to the bottom of his chin. "You've got guts." The man noted, amused, "Literally and metaphorically."

"You've got what I came for." Dib replied sharply, using his index finger to push the blade aside. The man watched, raising an eyebrow. "I want her back."

"You want to take her place?"

"What?" The boy's brows knitted, and the man laced his fingers, standing. It was then that Dib noticed the assortment of heads of small animals and such oddities nailed into the wall, one of the strangest being a bunny. His skin went cold. "You're… joking…."

"Terry told me a lot about you. She wanted to vent before she died." His gaze drifted into the distance, as he seemed to relive his thoughts – which were obviously confusing. "Something about you having an alien parasite in your brain giving you a tumor… my name is Johnny by the way, but you can call me Nny."

"S-she's dead…?" Dib stammered, his lungs hammering in his chest.

"Well… almost." The homicidal maniac responded, glancing at a clock on the wall. "She's pretty resilient."

Even knowing the precious moments could cost his life, Dib couldn't help but ponder what the creep had mentioned – Terry had vented to him. Curiously, but hesitantly, he asked "What'd she say to you?"

"If I told you, I'd die of hysterical laughter." The man chuckled, and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Of course, Senior Diablo probably would reject me once again… and who knows what the next haircut would look like…."

Dib blinked, and scooted away, face flushed. "Where is she?" he inquired coldly, planning his moves carefully. It was almost like a game of chess. His game plan was set in his mind – all he needed was to wait for the right move on Nny's part.

"I should tell you why?"

"This." He tore his pocket knife from one of the compartments of his trench coat, and in one swift movement, jabbed it deep into Nny's knee. But the plan was forced to alter slightly, as Nny only raised an inquisitive eyebrow, glancing at the dark red fluid dripping from his knee. Dib gaped.

"Uh-huh…." The man said, raising his brows. And in a single swipe, Dib yelped as he rolled out of the way of a knife swiftly coming towards his shoulder. The knife sunk into the floor, but Dib didn't have time for the fatal sigh of relief, as another took its place. He panted, jumping to his feet, and dashed about as the man tossed knives at him, cursing when he missed.

And one entrance, Dib noticed as he began growing dizzy, Nny took extra precaution to guard as they ran. This was the door the teenager chose to take, as a steel blade whizzed straight past his cheek, grazing it just enough to draw a bead of red.

He tore open the door, slamming it shut behind him, watching in horror as a knife protruded through the wood right beside his neck, threatening splinters bulging. Dib locked the door, testing it despite the angry blades attacking, and then turned about.

A staircase downwards met him. He took it frantically, his steps echoing throughout the room. "Terry!" He screamed, listening as the hinges on the door above began rattling. His breath hummed in his ears with the beat of his own heart. "Terry!"

"Uhn…." He was elated to hear the weak reply, even though the door was bursting open above. A single light became visible, and he approached a grotesque scene in horror.

Terry lay face down on a steel table, slash marks up and down her body, through her clothing. Her wrists, dangling off either side of the table, were bleeding into paint buckets. But the gruesome part was that she was partially skinned. The back of her shirt had been sawed open, but it was not flesh that was revealed. No, it was muscles, a whole patch of muscles, made of smaller squares. Pink oozed crimson and Dib nearly vomited at the sight. A pile of bloody tan squares were stacked on the floor. "Terry…?"

"You idiot… why…." He heard the calm footsteps coming down the stairs, and it was quite unnerving. "Go… away…."

"Terry, just shut up for a minute, ok?" he shouted desperately, and quite gingerly, heaved her into his arms, stumbling as he attempted to retain balance. He pressed his cheek against hers, and could feel the cold of her flesh. Her hot blood poured over him, adding to his feverish ailment, and he held her tight as danger stepped into the light, knife drawn.

"How sweet." The man crooned, grinning widely. "A rescue mission." He stalked forward, his expression darkening as he pointed his knife. "Too bad it was in vain."

"Wait!" Dib shouted, and the man paused, twirling his knife in boredom. Dib hoisted Terry higher. "If you're going to kill me, stab me right here." He struggled, but managed to gesture to his stomach with his elbow.

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "I was going to torture you first, you know."

"Make your first mark there. Please…." Dib pleaded.

The abnormal adult scratched his head then shrugged. He swept his hand back, spun his knife, and then lurched forward.

Millimeters away. That's all it took. And for once in his life, Dib was grateful for what happened next. The emerald light illuminated the room, and he grasped Terry tightly, hugging her cold figure close as his vision dimmed. The last thing he noticed was how hot her leaking blood felt against his chest.

* * *

His eye cracked open.

There was about five of them. They were tall – perhaps six to seven foot average - with large skulls and huge black eyes. There skin was grey and thin, and they wore no clothing, although they seemed to have no organs for reproduction to cause means for embarrassment, anyhow. Four long, spindly, slightly webbed fingers came off each hand, and their feet were like human feet, but with no individual toes. Lanky, their chests were wide, but tapered into thin stomachs, then jutted out with sharp hips. Their k-nines were horribly long and sharp for anything human, but it almost looked cute, almost puppy-like, on these beings. They were intimidating but elegant.

The boy stared curiously as his vision blurred over again.

* * *

A cool breeze stirred. The only sound was gentle breathing and the music of the cicada and toad choir. His senses slowly came to him bit by bit. The smell of grass and Earth was the first to come, then an odd taste in his mouth. An ache in his swollen stomach that soothed very easily, then warmth….

He opened his eyes, gazing straight ahead. He was on a grassy hill he recognized, not too far from his home, his back against a large shade tree. It was well into the night, the stars spinning webs of fantastic tales of great hunters and bears in the sky. Then, he became aware of another sequence of breathing besides his own. He glanced down, and softened. Terry's back seemed healed, white gauze of a strange material that was neither plastic nor cloth wrapped about it. She still wore her slashed shirt, but only the alien bandaging was still exposed. This bandaging was also wrapped about her wrists and forehead.

"Terry." He whispered quietly, and she mumbled something incoherent, rolling over. "Lettuce-top."

"Mr. Ergal?" she frowned, whipping at her eyes.

"No." he whispered warmly into her ear, pressing his glasses up the brim of his nose. "It's your savior. You should be kissing my feet, you know."

She sprung up, spinning around. "Dib?" A recollection of events replayed in her head. "Where's Nny?"

"Far away." He mumbled, and she stood, looking over the hill, grass hiding her ankles.

"Gee, Dib, you could have gotten yourself killed! What if I had died before you had gotten there? Ever think of that? Huh? You could have jeopardized your own life for a corpse." She said in an agitated tone, her back to him as she stared vaguely off the hill.

He reclined gloomily against the tree, his stomach slightly upset once more. He had really hoped that she would have given him just one more chance. Her shining eyes glanced over her shoulder, and he stared oddly for a moment, before lowering his own coffee-colored orbs to the ground.

Dib gasped as his friend tackled him, hugging him around the waist.

"You dim-wit." She scolded, but her tone was bright, and he glanced down, squinting to see past her mop of hair. He beheld the smile that he had desired to see since two days previously. "Thanks."

He grinned, wrapping his arms about her. "Good to be alive."

* * *

The hill was silent, although nearly an hour had passed. One child had drifted off to sleep, the other reclining against them. Her green eyes pierced the darkness, staring straight and boldly at the moon. The falls and rises of the chest beneath her cheek were soothing, and sleep did tempt. But she was too ruffled and uneasy to drift off. Somewhere out there, Nny was fuming… or drinking a slushy. She curled her fingers into Dib's navy shirt, wondering what she would tell her renewed friend once he woke up. 'Gee, I'm sorry I tried to kill myself and endangered you?' For the moment, she attempted to focus on the thin arms warmly wrapped about her shoulder-blades. Both were a bit scared, attempting to keep each other as close as possible after their rendezvous with the homicidal madman. In fact, both had agreed that trekking the short distance to Dib's house was just too frightening after their previous predicament.

Suddenly, she felt a thump. On her elbow, she felt a thump. Her eyes traveled down to her elbow – she felt another. Dib murmured something, and a frown spread across his features. Her arm was curled over his stomach once more. Another thump – curiously, Terry spread her palm open and rested it against her elbow. As long as she waited, there was nothing. She rested her arms to there previous position, and glanced nervously about – another thump.

She raised one of her hands to rub her temples, but in the one still resting, felt yet another thump. And the more she thought about it, the more Dib groaned, the less it was a thump. It suddenly registered as a kick. Eyes growing wide, she splayed her hand, and waited.

It was unmistakable – a tiny foot definitely kicked her hand.

She wasn't sure if she were delusional or not, but quickly sat up and roughly shook Dib. "What?" he muttered, irritated.

"Dib… Dib… wake up!"

"No… I feel like crap…."

"Dib!"

"Mmm…."

She began pulling away, and he frowned, peering out one eye. "What?" he asked, shoving his palm under the lens of his glasses to wipe at his eye. She quickly grasped it by the wrist, and firmly pressed his hand against the bulging stomach. He frowned, baffled. "Eh-"

"Wait."

It seemed to take an eternity, but the wait was rewarding. A solid kick could be felt. Dib paled, his hand trembling. "No…."

Terry chuckled, in her head deciding that the world had gone completely and utterly mad, and rested her cheek across the jabbering teenager's stomach, whispering through Dib's gibberish attempts to make a logical explanation "Try to be sane, ok?"


	6. Dwellings

Hey guys, I'm back! This chapter is pretty much fluff, I know, but it does actually have to do with the plot, I swear! Anyhow, this story is having more Johnny then I thought it would... 0.o''' Wait to see what I mean. I don't think this story fits under humor anymore... unless... it's a sadistic humor...

* * *

'Compel… compels… compelled… compiled… moose… I love it… no… yes… JUMPING JELLYBEANS… compel… compels… compelled…

'Compel… compels… compelled… compiled… moose… I love it… no… yes… JUMPING JELLYBEANS… compel… compels… compelled….'

"Terry, get up."

'Computer… company… compass… fish… compel….'

"Terry?"

'Compels… pantyhose?'

"Terry!"

"Pantyhose!" Dib blinked, a bit shocked. Terry had unexpectedly bolted upright, wild-eyed, shouting 'pantyhose' as the top of her lungs. The girl realized that whatever dream setting she had been in, she was no longer there, and her cheeks flushed pink. She avoided Dib's gaze, staring at the grass.

"Pantyhose?" Dib stuttered, unnerved.

"Uh…." She scratched her mop of green hair, blushing deeply. "It was… important… at the time… kind of…." She stumbled over her words, glancing at anything but Dib's face. She could sense the laughter he was attempting to hold in the pit of his stomach.

They were still on the hill, grass whipping at them, beams of sunlight shining through the oak above. Far below, Dib's luxurious high-tech neighborhood could be seen. The sky was a milky blue blanket, clumps of fat white cotton scattered about. Far away, the city smoked and glimmered against the backdrop. A little tawny beetle scrambled over Terry's splayed fingers before disappearing into the tall green blades.

"How long did I sleep?" She asked, attempting to relocate the little insect once more by squinting. Dib reclined against the tree, folding his arms behind his skull.

"I'm guessing it's about ten to eleven AM." He approximated, absent-mindedly fiddling with one of the weeds. Terry glanced over her shoulder at her composed companion, who seemed utterly relaxed. Seeing him the previous night had caused her to ponder about his sanity from that point forward, but he seemed completely… calm.

"How can you be so relaxed? Last night you were near melt-down!" she exclaimed, remembering that she had fallen asleep to the sound of his continuous raving.

"That's easy."

"Explain."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Because there's no need to panic - I'm not pregnant."

Terry nearly collapsed into a hysterical laughing fit. He was in denial. He was going through the stages of shock like any average person upon receiving horrible news – panic, denial, breakdown, and acceptance. The great Dib, junior paranormal investigator, hero of Earth, alien hunter, was going through stages. "Whatever Dib." She snorted, amused. She crept up to him, and he furrowed a brow as she whispered in his ear "Bet you ten I'm right."

"You're on." A sadistic grin passed on his face, making it obvious that he refused to lose. Terry sighed, progressed to her feet, a smirk across her face.

Dib surveyed his comrade, licking his teeth gingerly. For some reason, he was compelled to reach out and touch her, his index finger grazing her hand. She peeked down at him with a peculiar expression, and he quickly transferred his curious gentle action into the grasping of her wrist simply to save his own dignity. "Let's go to my house. We need to talk." He stated firmly, any remote signs of happiness draining from his complexion as serious matters filled his head.

"About what?"

"A lot of things." He shrugged casually, pushing himself off one of his knees to a standing position, and pulled her along as he trotted down the side of the hill.

_Momma used to take my hand_

"What kind of things?" Terry frowned, stumbling after his rude tug. His face was contorted in thought, his eyes a mix of unrecognizable emotions. The grass whipped harshly at her ankles.

_Just like this._

"Just some things." He replied, continuing to plow forward despite her yanks on her arm. Finally, to end her protests, he slipped his hand about hers.

_Momma used to tell me that I was okay,_

_That the rain would one day go away._

Terry glanced at his hand locked about hers. Her cheeks grew hot in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I'm not a child, Dib! Stop it!" she snapped, attempting to pull herself free of him. But she merely tripped as he continued forward.

_Momma used to whisper in my ear_

_Honey, grab my hand, is that clear?_

_No one is going to take my boy away from me._

His caramel eyes peered over his shoulder, and she glared into them, meeting a reflection of herself within them. Slowly, with a scolding frown, he kneeled down, helping her up once more. But the moment her soles met the ground, her hand was seized once more.

_No one's going to squash my joy, she said._

_With that she'd kneel and kiss my throbbing head._

_The tears pouring from my red eyes_

_Her thumb whipped away._

"Dib!" Terry nearly screamed, struggling to stop his tirade down the hill "Stop! I can walk myself down! You're embarrassing me!" He whipped around, grasping her chin between his thumb and index finger. She bit her lip as his brown pools examined her, and finally, he released her. Turning on his heel, he trudged away.

_Momma, I'd insist, I'm too big for this now._

_She said, Honey I won't always be around._

_I want to love you darling,_

_I wish you'd understand._

_I'm not the best,_

_But I do what I can._

She gazed after him, watching as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, shoulders hunched. Terry shivered, the wind gusting her green hair before her eyes, obscuring her view. He paused, back still to her, and he seemed to freeze.

_Well, slowly I realized_

_From that moment on_

_That if it weren't for her I'd be_

_Quite alone._

Terry sighed, and slowly trekked forward, through the tall grass, the wind shoving her forward, tussling her hair. His form was quite majestic, standing in the field as his trench coat billowed about him as he solemnly waited.

_I slowly took her hand in mine._

_I said, Momma we'll be just fine._

_I'd like to think that, son, I really would_

_Momma said, I'd believe it if I could_

_You're my only baby boy_

_And I love you so…._

She silently crept behind him, and slipped her hand into his, lacing fingers with him. He raised his head, caramel eyes shocked and wide, lips slightly parted in a silent gasp, and he stared in awe and disbelief. She shrugged, giving his hand a slight squeeze, a light smile on her features that he hesitantly returned.

_Oh honey, please don't go…._

They continued downhill.

* * *

Terry swung her legs off the side of the bed as she waited. Technically, Dib was in trouble. And she wasn't supposed to be there. Which was the reason the boy had snuck her up his window and into his room before running downstairs to console his father's agitation and meet his sister's demands.

She glanced about – the room was really quite drab, most objects a tone of gray or navy. Even the walls were a worn dusty blue color. There were several posters about, all but one paranormal-related. The light shining through the window was the only sign of joy. Terry glanced at the digital clock – it blinked noon. Dib had abandoned her nearly thirty minutes previously, telling her to stay put, claiming he'd be back in less than a minute.

The anxious teenage girl glanced about, then stood, pacing as she took her hands in and out of her pockets. It was difficult to decide which position was better. Bitter, she finally decided on tinkering with his computer – although she was aware that doing so would probably cause her trouble later.

For a few minutes, she played spades. But that got boring to the point of desperation, and she opened his documents, rifting through them for her own entertainment. One in particular caught her attention, though, and frowning, she opened it. The labeled document, '?', immediately demanded a pass code.

Terry scratched her head, glancing about the room. Her eyes rested on a sheet of papers with a bunch of random words written on it, most scratched out. She lifted it, as it read 'Gaz, Dib, Membrane, Super Toast, Elixir, Bid, Dub, Science, SCIENCE, SCIENCE!, time travel, conspiracy….' And so forth. It definitely wasn't obvious, but Terry could only guess that Dib was guessing passwords, maybe even for the document on the screen at that moment.

She smirked, and tried a couple of the remaining passwords on Dib's list. They didn't work. So, quite jokingly, she stroked her chin. "Well, to the quantum figures of thirty-four c squared, I say the password must be my name." she scoffed, typing in the letters of her name.

Unlike in so many stories where it's crazy enough to work, in this one, it of course, didn't.

"Hmm – oh well." She tapped her chin, leaning back in the swivel chair, swaying side to side. She lowered her fingers once more, and typed in a couple of science-type things, like the rest of the attempted passwords on Dib's list. She even tried 'theory'. Nearing boredom once more, she leaned forward, lids drooping. Then it came to her – Dib wasn't interested in science, but his father was.

She tried a couple of more passwords that might have something to do with Professor Membrane's family and self. She pecked in 'Mrs. Membrane'.

'Password accepted' flashed across the screen, and she nearly fell out of the seat. "You're kidding." She guffawed, and leaned forward, watching as the computer blinked a new window. 'Sorry, this document has either been transferred or no longer exists. Please-'

Her reading was cut short as a voice over her shoulder whispered "What are you doing?" She tensed, her breath caught in her chest, and she guiltily raised her eyes to gaze at the face peering over her shoulder, lips nearly touching her ear. But as she looked closer, it was apparent that he was no longer focused on her. Black locks fell before his eyes as they shifted to gaze at the computer screen, brows knitted. "How'd you crack the code?"

"Mrs. Membrane…." Terry whispered weakly, still uncomfortable with his proximity. She watched a pang of hurt flash across his eyes, and she backed away. Shyly, she inquired "She's not around anymore, is she?"

"No…." Dib whispered, turning his gaze down at one of his hands resting on the surface of the desk. He attempted a smile, squinting. "That's ok, though."

Terry promptly jammed her mouth shut, squirming away from the boy lost in h is memories. "You… uh… needed to talk to me?"

"Huh?" Dib asked vacantly, eyes on the monitor, before he snapped into reality once more. "Oh yeah." He sat on the center of his bed, then scooted back so his back rested against the headboard, gesturing to the other end. "Have a seat." She glanced hesitantly, and he rolled his eyes. "It's not like I wet it." She tentatively sat across from him, and he leaned against the wall.

"So…."

"Terry." His tone was serious, and she gulped. "You can't stay in that neighborhood. So would you like to stay here for a while?"

"What?" she gasped, quite startled. She was sure the question was innocent, but her mind had already fled to disturbing alleys. He, fortunately, didn't seem to notice.

"I'm serious. Listen, your mom probably can't move out right away, and if she knew a homicidal maniac personally knew you, then I could only imagine the panic. But this is a safe side of town. You're mom could find a way to earn some extra money while your here, and you can say you're staying with my sister. Nobody around here would care, I'm sure."

"What about-"

"My dad hardly realizes I live here, and Gaz is caught up in her own world. As long as you don't mess with her, she'll be fine." She still grimaced. "Oh, come on! It's a huge house, and maybe, we could even hang out more often." He lowered his voice for the last sentence, smiling hopefully, but she frowned. His smile drooped, and he swung his legs off the bed, resting his elbows upon his knees as he waited for her reply. "I just don't want Nny coming after you, that's all."

"Well…." He glared at the ground, mentally cursing it. "I guess I could…." A smile crept up his cheeks, and he glanced up. But she didn't seem nervous, or for that matter, alert at all. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at the middle of the bed, wearing a face showing no particular emotion. He cautiously snapped his fingers before her face, and she jolted up.

"Are you ok?"

"I don't think I should." She said quickly, proving that she had immersed in a startling thought.

"Why not?"

"Because…." She trailed off, concealing what was on her mind. He waited patiently, but she didn't continue.

"Oh sure, I'll keep that in mind." Dib said dramatically to her silence. He raised an eyebrow as she stared at her knees.

"Fine… but under one condition."

"Shoot."

"I sleep in another room."

He winced. "I… wasn't going to… suggest that we… oh… you think I'm asking you to live with me because…." She blushed darkly, but her whole body visibly relaxed in relief. Dib grinned ear to ear, chuckling. "You thought I was asking you to couple with me or something?"

She laughed as well, shaking her head at her own miscalculation, but something nagged in the back of her head that this was still not alright at all. That even though he hadn't been asking her anything more than if she would like to board at his home, it was still somehow wrong for her to accept the invitation.

"Oh, and you need to call your mom. And about what you said to me the other day-"

"Dib." She took the sleeve of one of his shirts, biting her lip. He was a bit surprised. "That was really cruel, and I'm sorry. I mean… I'm not… because I really did mean what I said. But I'm sorry it came out that way. I don't want you to give up your fascinations and obsessions. I don't want you to be perfect. Because then you wouldn't be Dib. I just want to spend time doing other things, too… you know… I mean, I-"

"I get it Terry." He said calmly, a light smile on his face. She looked a bit hesitant. He grinned deviously, and teased. "Doctor Dib has diagnosed you with a small outbreak of frustration and loneliness. He prescribes, since you've already had a therapeutic outburst, take it easy. Also, let all your guilt go – it shouldn't be there, anyway."

She smirked weakly, but his sarcasm didn't cheer her. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think I'm pretty sure." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But about my plans – they have to stay short or Zim will get the upper hand."

"Then I'll work on your long plan!" He was a bit taken aback by her outburst. She seemed dead serious, though. "You give me all the information possible and I'll work on something long-term. That way, you can keep Zim from getting the 'upper hand', and have a way to save Earth in the long-run."

"You would do that?"

"Yeah… but only if you start being more careful – after all, a plan isn't very useful if the person carrying it out is dead."

Dib nodded, and smiling, took Terry's hand and shook it. "Welcome to Membrane's estates."


	7. Men of Sacrifice

Wow, I'm getting so many more reviews than I expected! And they're all positive! I love you guys! So I have decided how Zim will come in - sorry for depriving you all of his mighty prescence. I promise that at the end he will have a MAJOR role. I've alos decided that Johnny will be a regular character. I really want to know what you guys think of Terry, for it shall determine many plot details from here on, including the end. Oh, and please tell me in your reviews if I over-do Dib angst scenes. I'll be happy to rewrite them.

* * *

Whispers in the dark. Hushed tones, but clearly agitated. Bickering.

Terry wiped the sand from her eyes, sitting up groggily. Time – a little after two in the morning. Place – Professor Membrane's household. Current condition – groggy. She felt blindly about for the edge of the mattress then attempted to stand. It was an effort that failed, as she toppled to the floor with a gentle thud.

Cursing as she gingerly rubbed her throbbing back, she stumbled up, feeling about with her left hand. She winced as her adventure led her straight into a chair, but she none the less continued to grope about it until she ran into the wall. She felt her way across it until she found the door handle.

Ultimately, by the time she managed to silently slip out the door, she wished she hadn't asked for the darkest room in the house. It was nice and creepily shadowy by day, but by night, it was nearly impossible to even stand without pondering which way was up and which was down it was so black.

She had been staying less than a week, and while her mother was hesitant, Membrane's logic proclaimed that 'Gaz's guest' would be able to teach Dib how to normally interact with his sibling.

Gaz didn't really care at all… until the first night of the newcomer's stay, where she realized she'd have to split the pizza three ways instead of the normal two. She called Dib away, and they both returned after fifteen minutes, Gaz looking angered and Dib covered with bruises. Terry had merely blinked with a vague expression on her face. Some time in the middle of diner, during one of Dib's rants about a paranormal investigator named Bill, she slipped away, hardly touching her single slice of cheesy goodness. It took until the very last slice in the box was eaten for Gaz to reach across the table and grab Terry's abandoned one, Dib finally realizing that his guest was missing.

Things had been eerily quiet between the two since.

Terry stumbled down the stairs, her eyes taking a bit longer than previously thought to adjust to the dim lighting. She managed to stay quiet, though, and wandered down to the kitchen as the whispers grew to shouts.

She peeked her head around the corner of the kitchen entrance to the living room, so that only a small sliver of her face showed, and quietly observed.

"This is nuts! Gaz and I need you! You can't keep staying out this late!"

"Son, you are a mere child and would not understand the importance of my profession!"

"Yeah, and if you were working, I wouldn't be complaining! I mean, I would on the inside, but wouldn't say anything!"

"Then why are you complaining?"

"Because you smell like alcohol! You said you would stop years ago!"

"I did! Son, you wouldn't understand."

"No, I don't! Last time it was because mom died, I can get that. But I can't get this! Just explain and we can get you some help!"

"I can't explain it to you, do you understand?"

"No!"

"Go to bed, now!"

"Why are you always gone? Why don't you ever spend time with us? Do you hate us?"

"No, it's the exact opposite!"

"You don't abandon someone you love!"

Terry's eyes widened as she heard a sharp snap fill the air - saw a thick black glove come across a pale cheek. She flung herself against the wall, no longer having the guts to peek at father and son. She heard a shaky inhale, and then footsteps coming swiftly her way. She slunk down to the floor, watching as Dib ran past her, up the stairs, holding his cheek, eyes filled with hate and fear. A door above slammed. Her breathing became slightly labored, and though Dib hadn't noticed her, a grieved sigh from the next room stopped abruptly.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The big man came around the corner, staring down at her through his goggles. She curled against the wall, chest hammering. "Why are you out of bed, child?" he asked, squatting down. He did, in fact, smell of alcohol, but only lightly.

She glanced at him then leaned her head against the wall, avoiding his gaze. "Why do you have to be so mean to him?" she squeaked after a few moments of silence. "He's not a bad kid. Why do you have to-"

"I know he's not." Membrane shushed, laying a hand on her shoulder. "But sometimes fathers have complicated decisions to make for their children's safety. You don't understand that yet, but-"

"Yes I do." Her large green orbs gazed up to him, and she clasped her knees.

"You do?"

"Yeah." She glared at the floor, shuddering. They sat in dark silence for a moment, before the scientist intercepted it.

"Would you like to confide?" he asked uneasily, his lack of proper parenting and advisory skills making his question clumsy. She shook her head. "Are you sure?"

She gazed up, lip trembling. "Maybe."

Membrane stood, flipping on the kitchen light, and gazed down at her small figure. He gestured to the kitchen table, and she quietly obeyed, taking a seat. He sat across from her, staring calmly. After a few tense moments, she spoke.

"My dad… or he would have been my dad if he had lived long enough… died a few years ago. My mom and I had lived alone for a long time, and she had several unsuccessful relationships, but when she started to date him, everything just seemed to… you know… fit." She bit her lip. "He was a commander in the military, and we lived at the base in that area." She adverted her eyes, and made to get up, but Membrane probed her. "There was… a bombing. My dad was told to immediately go to the barracks, but we couldn't go. So he ignored orders and saved us." She gave a broken smile, which was anything but happy. "Nobody died, but they shot him later for inability to carry out order." She clenched her teeth, bowing her head as she stared at her fingers. "I don't understand. All he wanted to do was save us… why did they have to kill him?"

Membrane stared at her a bit then scooted his chair closer, whipping his gloved fingers over her cheeks. She realized for the first time that she was crying, and fervently whipped at her eyes. Her peachy cheeks were streaked, and after a while she simply gave up, staring at the table. "Please don't tell anyone about that." She finally mustered to say.

"I won't." he assured, patting her shoulder gently before standing, walking to the light switch. "You need your rest. Go to your room and slumber." He said gently, and she nodded, walking past him. She stopped, though, once she reached him, and looked up.

"What is it that you have to decide?"

"Don't fret over it." The professor said, softly shoving her back. "Up the stairs to bed with you, in the name of sleep."

She nodded again. Membrane waited, and listened as a door closed in the floor above. He gazed tenderly, pitying the child, but unsure how to respond. He had never read any books on how to treat a child's guest when they were sorrowful – in fact, he had never expected either of his own to bring home a guest, as neither were successfully sociable. But somehow, he felt a responsibility now towards her.

Flipping off the light, he made his way to the door of the lab, but paused. Instead, he turned to the next door over, and retired for the night.

The next morning, when he left for work, he checked three rooms instead of two.

* * *

A scream erupted down the hall. Dib sat upright in bed, alert and on the edge. He put on his glasses and glanced at the clock – there was a good hour before he needed to get up to prepare for school - another scream. He jolted up, pulling a shirt over his naked chest, as he usually slept in the pants he wore the day before while discarding his shirt.

He darted out of his room, and glanced at Gaz, who was downstairs searching the fridge. "Are you screaming?" he asked over the railing of the second floor, and she glared up at him.

"Why on this filthy scum-ridden planet would I scream while I'm looking for the milk? And go make your friend shut up. She's giving me a migraine." He continued to pace down the hall and Gaz squinted as another scream was let loose, muttering "Whiner."

Dib barged into Terry's room, and watched, a bit stunned, as she rolled over fitfully, clawing at her head, tears trailing her cheeks. She shouted gibberish, and he uneasily crept to her sighed. She bucked as he laid a hand on her spine, attempting to still her. He pulled away sharply when he felt it surprisingly hot. "Terry, wake up!" he yelled, unsure on whether to shake her or not.

"No!" she shrieked, tossing a pillow at him. "Go away!"

"What?" he exclaimed.

"I said go away!" She tossed over, continuing her struggle with herself.

"Wait, are you awake?"

"Stop! Go away!"

"I'm not-"

"Stop!" Her fit ended, and she sobbed into her pillow, squeezing it, her slightly matted hair wild and tangled. He tentatively sat beside her.

"Terry?" She didn't respond, still shaking as her pillow darkened. "Ter-… are you awake?" He lightly laid a hand on her shaking back, still bound in alien gauze. She seemed to stir, groggily gazing up at him.

"I-I'm fine…. Don't touch there." She mumbled, gingerly turning herself over. She seemed to avoid pressing her back against the bed, and winced when he brushed her bandaged wrists.

"What just-"

"I'm fine!" she said quickly, "You go make breakfast or… whatever you do in the morning. I'll be down."

"No! I want to know what's wrong." He said firmly.

"Go away!"

"Why?" She pulled her covers over her, and for the first time, he noticed that she was in but a black bra, gauze, and a pair of Bermuda shorts that had a large hole in the knee. He turned dark pink, and he stumbled off the bed, stuttering "Yeah, I was just… leaving." He stopped as he was about to turn the door handle, and frowned. "Wait… no… this isn't a normal situation. You're feverish and obviously upset and-"

"I'm not! Just get out of here."

"No. You're in pain! I can't just leave you here!"

"Dib!"

"Just pull on a shirt or something."

"Are you kidding?"

"If you don't I'll turn back around anyway."

"Get out now!" Her last pillow was chucked at his head, and he spun around, tackling her down. She fought against him, but he managed to pin her so that one hand held one of her arms down while the other felt her forehead.

"You're pretty warm!"

"I'll be better after I get some food. Get off of me!" She yelled, continuing to use her free hand to pull his hair. He only cringed against the pain.

"What is going on?" he demanded.

"Nothing!"

"Stop hiding it, it's already obvious something's wrong! Are your injuries hurting?"

"Why are you so protective? I'm just sore, alright? I'll be fine! Get out!"

"No!"

"Get out!" She released his hair and swung at his family jewels. His grip slackened, and he winced.

"I'll be leaving now." He squeaked, stumbling away clutching his crotch.

She watched as he left and angrily kicked her dresser, tears welling, rubbing her wrists. She whimpered, and sunk unto her bed.

* * *

Dib was weary as Terry, after about half an hour, managed to arrive in the kitchen. By that point, his adorable little monster of a sister had been fed and cared for, and he had eaten. So he began preparing his backpack for the day ahead. His eyes followed her as she walked to the fridge. She stopped with her fingers on the handle. "Can I get something to eat?" she asked, not daring to look at him.

"Yes." He replied blandly, and listened as she began a short rummage. He watched as she retrieved the peanut butter and bread off the counter, adding it to the jelly she had pulled out of the fridge. "I can make you something if you want." She shook her head, scraping the jars.

"We need to go shopping." She said absentmindedly, putting the jelly away again, although the near empty jar probably wasn't worth saving.

"We?"

"Well, I guess I live here now too, don't I?" She glared at him, curtly shutting the refrigerator door, and then turned back to her sandwich. "I told you this was a bad idea."

"If you'd just explain why you're screaming at eight in the morning, then there would be no problem."

The turquoise-haired girl stared at the ground, pausing her smothering of the bread. "It's… complicated. I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Look, its not-"

"It's complicated!" she hissed, and silence surrounded them. She slapped the pieces of bread to her sandwich together, staring at the ground.

"Why?"

"Because it's embarrassing, ok?"

"You can tell me now, you k-"

"God damn, Dib! I feel like crap, ok? I wake up screaming like some lunatic, and I hurt all over, and all I want to do is go back to bed, but I can't even sleep!" She took her sandwich, and elbowed him as she walked past.

"I can get that! I just want to try to help!" he defended, spinning about. She turned to face him again. She groaned, burying her face in her hand.

"Just… don't…." she approached him, sighing, as she forced herself to calm down. She stared up at him, searching his eyes for understanding. "I'm just… under a lot of stress. And I'm scared. And these scars and stuff still hurt. And I'm acting like a wimp whining about it." Finally, he seemed to understand, and his eyes stared tenderly. She breathed a sigh of relief. "I just don't want to talk about it right now. Just… don't worry about me. I'm fine."

He strangely touched her cheek, sifting through her gaze. "You're not a wimp. You'll be ok."

The words were strangely comforting, and she couldn't resist giving him a light squeeze around the waist before bolting up the stairs to retrieve her own backpack.

* * *

Terry struggled to keep up with the chase as a black-cloaked figure chased a green one. She panted heavily, clambering up the fence they had just leaped over.

Dib breathed loudly, a smile stretched across his features as he trailed the Irken. "You'll never win, Zim!" he jeered loudly.

"Foolish human! Victory is for Zim!" the alien screamed, pulling a gun out of nowhere. Dib yelped, ducking as the lasers fired over his head as he jumped unto the back of a minny tiny weenie roll truck. Zim jumped unto the weenie, pointing at the Earthling. "Fool-meats! Prepare for your demise!" The gun targeted Dib, whose eyes widened.

The human leapt from the truck, watching as he fell towards the pavement into traffic. But he lurched forward, managing to collapse unto the windshield of another vehicle. The driver screamed, swerving, but he merely clambered to the top, avoiding gunfire. Zim laughed viciously, hopping unto the same vehicle just as Dib leapt from it into a tree.

Zim yelled as the car smashed into the weenie truck, weenies flying everywhere, and mad chaos ensued as the street was flooded with weenies, and cars wrecked, horns going off, pedestrians screaming, Timmy drowning in the well! But the alien majestically – or rather, ironically – arose from the wreckage, weenies stuck in the openings of his boots and gloves. "I will not be defeated by your Earth meats, no matter how miniature they may be, for I am ZIM!"

Dib blinked, and scurried across the branch of the tree frantically, jumping down at the end. "Ok, note, Zim, not defeated by weenies!" he yelled, running from the alien now on his trail. He raised an eyebrow. "Wait… aren't I supposed to be chasing him?"

He didn't have time to mull over this, though, as something hit the back of his head. He spun around – Zim was hot on his trail with a handful of weenies. Dib skidded to a halt. "Hold on… this is just stupid!" he exclaimed, turning around. With a grin, he began chasing the alien, whose eyes bulged as the boy charged at him.

"Ah!" the Irken screamed, abandoning his weenies. "Gir!" he spoke through a watch and the image of his inept robot appeared on the screen.

"Yeeeeeees?"

"Save Zim!" he frantically exploded, as Dib began chucking rocks at him, "The Dib-beast is more armed than I originally thought!" he yelped as one hit the back of his head.

"Yes, master!" the robot said, eyes turning crimson, and the screen faded.

"Ha! You won't be salvageable by the time I'm done with you!"

"Nonsense! I will be free, then rain doom upon your pathetic planet of squids!"

"Wait… what do squids have to do with anything?"

"I like squids!" a high-pitched voice squealed. Zim stopped abruptly, glancing around. Dib approached, and looked about as well. The woods and trees about were eerily silent, anticipation filling the air. As if a bomb was beeping.

"Gir?" Zim asked tentatively.

"Woo-hoo!"

"Aiiiiii!"

Dib observed as a green stripe grabbed Zim by the ankles and zoomed off with him into oblivion, a small gleam in the sky far above. It reminded him of the exit of Team Socket off of some cheesy anime called Doke-mon. He blinked, staring at the light blue sky for a while, a bit startled.

He heard heavy breathing behind him. "For a pregnant person, you sure are fast."

"I'm not pregnant! And my head's not big!" Dib nearly screamed.

Terry glanced up from her bent-over position, attempting to catch her breath. "I never said anything about your head."

"Oh… right…" Dib droned, and then glared at the sky again. "He's gone again."

"No, really? I thought he was invisible." Terry said sarcastically. "Come on, let's just get home. The mosquitoes are attacking my arms." She muttered, noting her upper arm, her forearms protected by gauze. He raised an eyebrow.

"Why did you wear a T-shirt, then?"

"Let's just go!" With that said, she left the park, Dib catching up with her, leaving startled joggers, mothers, and children in sandboxes and slides gaping at them.

* * *

Dib glanced at Terry as Mysterious Mysteries went to commercial break. She seemed distracted, preferring to stare at the wall rather than the TV. "Uh… are you just in a crummy mood this week?"

"Yup." She said simply, staring at the wall.

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Uh huh, so what just happened on Mysterious Mysteries?"

She glared at him – though she hated to admit it, he acknowledged that she had grown fond of the show. In fact, she often reminded him when it was going to be on. She attempted to hide her eagerness before the program started, but that usually resulted in her becoming more impatient with the time - for her to not be glued to the tube at that time of day had become highly unusual.

"Nothing, really. Just stuff."

"Should I play the guessing game, or are you going to tell me?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're nosy, you know that?"

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not. Just tell me what's up, then I'll leave you alone."

"I'm just having some issues with some friends. That's all." She said quietly, attempting to force her eyes to drift to the television set, but they wandered off again towards the ceiling.

"Uh huh…."

"I defended you today."

"You what?" he asked, shocked. Usually, at school, Terry was quiet about their friendship, trying hard not to bring it up in conversations.

She frowned. "I defended you."

"Um… thanks… I guess." He mumbled, playing with a string on his shirt. "Uh… you didn't have to do that."

"Yes I did! Because you are sane and you're really nice most of the time! And I care about you, and I'm sick of telling people I don't know you. You're my best friend – I owe it to you."

"Your… best friend?"

"Uh huh." She nodded, staring at the television screen, kneading the bottom of her shirt.

"But what about all the fights we've been having and-"

She glanced over at him, brow raised. "If we didn't fight, then what else would we do for entertainment?"

Dib grinned, and glanced at the television. "You know, I can show you something really cool… if you're willing to record this, anyway."

Terry hesitated then looked up at him as he shoved himself off the couch. "What?"

"Come on. We have to do it before my dad gets home." He offered a hand, and she took it, glancing one last time at the screen before she allowed him to help her up. He set the DVD player to record then gestured to her to follow him. They walked across the living room to a doorway.

She nervously stepped forward as they began the descent to Membrane's layer.

* * *

Another chapter! Please review!


	8. Genetics

* * *

Yay! The main plot finally begineths!

* * *

Two children slunk against the cold walls, one a male youth. His hand fondled the wall, searching for the light switch. His friend, meanwhile, blindly grasped his cloak, struggling to keep up without stumbling in the dark. Finally, the boy smirked, his hand finding the switch, and the lights blinked into existence, temporarily blinding the two.

Terry shielded her eyes, and looked around. The place was insane, contraptions and papers filling every inch of desk, and nearly every inch of white floor and wall hidden by machinery and wires. Dib grinned at her, tugging on her arm. "Come on." She stumbled as he bolted forward, dragging her deeper into the room. "My dad made this invention a few years ago for Gaz – some kind of ATV thing. She never used it, of course, but I know it's back here somewhere."

The young girl began shivering as they neared the rear of the spacious but crowded room, and pulled on Dib's cloak. "How much farther is it?"

"Well, storage is near the back, so a little farther. Why?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder as he shoved a mass of wires aside, parting them for her. She glanced at the opening into the silver and black abyss, where the lights were extremely dim and aged.

"I… I don't know about this." She stuttered, ducking under the opening Dib had provided. They teenage boy followed, his brow knitted.

"Why?" Terry glared at the ground, wrapping her arms about herself. She shrugged, and Dib raised an eyebrow, but continued forward. As they reached the back wall, Dib clambered into the mounds of inventions. Terry grew colder, and found her breathing difficult. "My dad had an old lab a long time ago. He keeps stuff back there too, but it's usually closed off. Maybe it's back there."

"I don't want to go any farther." She said firmly, tingles creeping up her spine. Dib paused his rummaging, craning over.

"Really? How come?"

"This place is giving me the creeps, Dib!" she shuddered, clenching her hand. "I really don't think we should be here."

"Oh come on! It's only metal and dust!" She continued to glare at him through her green eyes, and he watched as she visibly shivered. He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Ok, you can go back to the living room. I'll be back out in a little bit. Just stick to the middle path and you should be able to get out of the lab."

Terry bit her lip, feeling the sudden urge to rip something to shreds. 'This isn't normal.' She immediately realized, and clambered unto the pile, tugging at Dib's sleeve. "No, Dib, we need to get out of here. Now!"

"You go, I'll catch up with you." He said, hardly paying attention to her as he continued digging. Her fingers curled on his jacket, and he blinked, looking over his shoulder. "A-Are you ok?" Her face was white, a she seemed rigid. "Really, Terry, get out of here. I'll be fine." She gave him a last glance, and he demanded "Go!" She nodded, staggered away desperately.

Dib watched as she left, shook his head, and felt his stomach churn. He laid his hand against it, wincing, and felt a bit of a chill himself. He slipped down off the pile, and skimmed the wall until he found the forbidden door, which was strangely ajar, even though he remembered it being closed moments previously. Silently, he slipped in, and glanced about.

It was dim in the light, but he managed to find a light switch. But instead of the full lighting that usually came up in the rest of the lab, a few blue floor lights came up. There was nothing but a desk filled with vanilla envelopes. He fumbled with one, and frowned as he saw his name in Membrane's bold writing across the cover. His hands began to crack it apart, but before he could, he heard a voice call "Dib…."

The envelope fell from his hands, and he glanced around nervously. An odd nip filled the room, originating from a door on the opposite side of the room. Dib shivered, and despite his anxiety, was drawn towards the door.

He slid in without a sound, and blinked. It was too dark to see anything. He shook his head, turning to exit, when the door slammed shut. His nerves piped, and he spun about. The shadows seemed to close in about him, and he felt extremely cold.

Suddenly, a dim light came up.

Dib opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came.

In large containers filled with light blue liquid, were beings in the likeness of himself. Tubes and cords came from their deformed bodies, and connected with the side of the glasses. While one was but a pair of legs and hips, another was a small fetus missing a foot, and yet another a perfect bust of himself about a year older. All had there eyes closed, not a sound issuing, dead. Each had the inscription 'DIB' written along the bottom of their tank beside a number.

Suddenly, laughter filled the room. At first it was a low chuckle, but gradually grew to a maniacal cackle. Dib trembled, tears falling from his eyes, his heart pounding a million miles a minute, his head throbbing, stomach aching. It seemed like a nightmare from hell, but the cold eating away at his pride argued.

"Dib!" something shouted in a hateful cheer, laughter halting, and Dib snapped around. This time, he did scream. He screamed, sweat pouring from his face, his whole body on edge, tears falling, face pale. And he ran away, bursting through the door with incredible force in escape.

A deformed, torn, troll-like version of himself with a scrunched face and yellow eyes without pupils, a thinning black scythe hairstyle cackled after him. The being was demonic, its teeth sharp and crooked in its mouth, two rows, a shriveled leg coming off its barely existent waist, all of it a yellow tone, freckled and spotted, sending off vibes of sin.

* * *

Terry watched Mysterious Mysteries, a blanket draped about her shoulders. The cold had long gone away, but she was still a bit uneasy. Suddenly, she heard the door to the lab slam, and she looked over the back of the couch, but was too slow. A flash of blue entering the bathroom was all she saw before that door slammed as well, retching the most prominent sound to her ears.

She paused the DVD player, and rushed to the bathroom door, tugging on it. But it had been locked. "Dib, what's going on? Dib!" All she heard was the sound of vomit, and sobbing, which after a few minutes, changed to the heaving of an empty stomach. Terry continued to try the door. "Dib!" She heard a thud to the ground, and worriedly, kicked and hammered on the door. "Dib!" A moan on the other side of the door, small and weak. She froze, her fist near inches from the door. "Dib, it's Terry. Let me in."

"I can't…" a hoarse voice whispered, and she strained to hear it.

"What's going on?" She heard more sobs from the other side of the door. "Dib, tell me or I'm going to call your dad-"

"NO!" the scream filled the room, and Terry became silent. She leaned against the white wall, worried.

"Dib… what's wrong?"

"Why do… I have abnormal reflexes…." It was unexpected, and the girl knitted her brow. "Why am I so smart?"

"Dib?"

"Why do I always survive situations I should have died in?" He was obviously not talking to her, but himself, but this worried her. Since she had met him, he had talked to himself less in her company, as he had her to rant to. He let out an anguished whine. "I want to die."

"What are you talking about?" she asked nervously, and began pulling on the handle again. "Dib, I swear, if you commit suicide, I'll find a way to torture your ghost! Tell me what's wrong or I will call your dad!"

She listened to a clatter on the other side of the door then watched as the door handle turned, the lock clicking as it was released. The entrance swung open, and she was shocked as a topless boy leaning against the doorframe, weeping, and his knees buckled. "D- What happened to your shirt?" she piped up, shocked. He didn't answer, but she saw it on the ground of the bathroom, stained with body fluid. His coat was crumpled near it, also stained. She tentatively wrapped her arms around him. "Dib…."

"I want to die…."

She allowed him to fall into the crook of her neck, feeling his hot tears stain her sleeves. She stared nervously then glanced at the bathroom, then back to him. "Y-you go upstairs to your room, ok? I'll take care of the mess. But... I'll come up to see you… ok? Just brush your teeth and use some mouthwash before I come in – I want to know what happened."

He nodded, and she helped him to his feet, and watched as he staggered up the stairs.

Slowly, she turned back to the bathroom. Terry paced in, grasping a washcloth, and wet it under the sink. Bending low, she began the tedious task of washing the bathroom of bacteria. It would have disturbed her slightly if her mind hadn't been roaming. Dib… she had never seen him that upset. Sure, he had his ups and downs, but usually his negative emotions were shown through irritation. In fact, the time Membrane had hit him was the only time she had ever seen him anywhere near as upset. Besides, most guys wouldn't dare cry in public, much less to anyone they knew. But just moments previously, Dib had clung to her, babbling about wanting to die.

She rung out the washcloth, sprayed some disinfectant, and after wiping it up, finished the bathroom. She tossed Dib's shirt and cloak into the laundry then headed towards the stairs. The whole process cost a precious fifteen minutes.

* * *

Dib remained curled on his bed, eyes still a bit misty, clutching his sheets. He had simply collapsed on his bed, and had stayed there, waiting as he attempted to compose himself. But each attempt failed miserably, and he ended up even more disturbed than he was previously, crashing harshly into reality over and over.

He wasn't the only Dib. He wasn't normal. All he had ever known… it was a lie of sorts. He wasn't original; his talents weren't of nature's development. Who knows if his family even truly loved him, as he had believed they had somewhere deep down in their hearts, despite their anger towards him. When Terry found out, she would probably be frightened of him, and his only friend would probably leave him.

He listened as the door creaked open, and rolled over, attempting to hide his weakness, although he knew his shoulders were visibly rattling. "Dib?" her voice was soft and gentle.

He didn't respond for several moments, figuring out what he was going to tell her. He decided upon the straight truth – the sooner she abandoned him, the better her life would be. Maybe she'd be able to go on, live a normal life, and start a family... "I'm genetically altered. I'm not natural at all. I'm just another one of my dad's experiments…."

Silence. And eerie silence. "Dib, have you lost your marbles?"

Dib choked. "Fine, don't believe me." His face contorted into a frown. "Just go."

"What?"

"Go, get out of here! Now! Out!" he screamed, jolting to a sitting position, staring coldly into her eyes with every ounce of venom he could muster. He was angry with the world, with himself, and everything else in his life. Her green orbs stared into his coffee brown ones, fearful and confused. "Out." he hissed.

She stood and stared at him, and he noted the way she whimpered as she raced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Dreams, horrid dreams... no, nightmares. Dib sprung to life, panting, curling his fingers. Every bit of him shivered, and his shoulders were tensed.

He glanced at the clock - near midnight. Dib lay down again, and attempted to sleep once more, yet it seemed nearly impossible. For a moment, he felt a wave of weariness wash over him, but it escaped his grasp in mere seconds. He was incredibly tired, but sleep kept dodging his desperate groping.

At last, he let sleep go, mulling over what had happened hours previously. His stomach fluttered, and he felt his lips, wondering if perhaps hidden in their grooves were the remains of the explosion of anger he had aimed towards his dearest friend... if he could still call her that after what he had done. He rested his forehead in his hands, moaning in regret.

Then somehow, his thoughts trailed to his mother. Had she really been his mother? She had died so young… Gaz looked just like her. He missed her dearly. He reached out into the black above, in hopes that some form of a spirit passing over his head would take him in her gentle caress. But he felt nothing but the cold of his room. His mother was gone.

Dejected, he lowered his arms. Maybe… she hadn't cared as much about him, either. Perhaps every peck on the cheek, every hug she had given him simply for being, had been a lie or a figment of his imagination. She had, after all, died when he was merely six.

"Yeah, I know that feeling." Dib jumped, and looked across the room to see a man in the open windowsill. Nny. "We're a lot alike."

The man seemed to evaporate into shadow and Dib stared palely, unsure if the man had truly been there or not. He was terrified.

* * *

Terry's eyes were peeled open as she stared at the wall, counting sheep. It was some time after midnight, and she had finally decided to attempt to settle so she wouldn't be a mess for school in the morning.

Suddenly, she heard the door creak open, a square of light playing against the wall, and it shut. A rustling sounded, and she felt a warm chest against her back. She thought of holding her breath, but it would be too noticeable as her hair was played with. She rolled over, attempting to act natural, as she peeked through cracked lids.

It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust, but she soon found a pair of caramel eyes focusing on her, eyes behind a set of glass. He seemed caught in his thoughts as he stroked her cheek. Quietly, he stared up at he ceiling, and she watched as crystalline beads fell from the corners of his eyes, against the focused expression of his face.

He rolled over, staring at the black wall. He curled his hand next to his face, allowing the tears to fall, as no one could see them. How would he ever stop Zim? What did these aliens want with him? Could he be pregnant? And what would he do about being an experiment, and what were his capabilities? The fact that his only friend probably hated him didn't help. He breathed a rugged sigh, and nearly jumped up as hand found its way to his back. He felt it create light circles across his flesh, and he bit his lip, filled with embarrassment. He couldn't even roll over, or she would see his tears. "Hey Terry." He whispered shakily.

"Talk." She said softly, against the nape of his neck, and he shivered. Shyly, he began describing her fears and worries to her, and even revealed his history of his mother, and how his sister beat him, how his father paid him no mind and called him insane, but carefully avoided the issue of his origins. The whole time, she continued to lay behind him, gently rubbing his back, and even once he had finished, she continued her silence.

Finally, she said "Dib, you really need to consider starting a journal or writing angst poetry." She played with his scythe, attempting to pat it down. "You snuck into my room, you know. I'm still in my pajamas."

"Sorry."

"It's ok."

He licked his lips, his heart growing heavy. "I'm sorry."

She rolled her eyes as he hugged her waist, resting against her. After a few minutes, she sighed "Ok, Dib, get to bed. Dib?" She gazed down – he was calmly asleep, head on her stomach, locks of hair falling before his closed eyes as his chest rose and fell at even intervals. She stared, and after a while, smiled, caressing his hair. "I guess I can forgive you." She let out a small chuckle. "You idiot." She smirked, for no particular reason as her hands smoothed down his back. She stared at the ceiling, wondering when she'd be able to sleep.


	9. Monsters

Alright guys, ninth chapter! Woohoo!

Uh, so I have some WARNINGS to place:

The end of this chapter conatins lots of philosophy from the twisted meats that are my brain. As tedious as it is, try to read it, because it will enrich your understanding of the events... maybe. I tried to make it an interesting scene, and I figured Gaz would be the character to have the universe figured out. So she may get a bit OOC. There is a bit of fluff between her and Zim, but it's not really romantic or anything. Just a budding of a possible friendship. As much as I like ZAGR, this isn't a ZAGR story.

Also, there may be some romance. Just not ZAGR, as previously mentioned. Try to guess the couple. I promise I'll attempt to make it at least slightly elusive until later chapters.

Love the Johnny, love him! He demands it of you! If you have any tips at how to make Johnny more Johnny-ish, please fill me in. I've never actually written for him before this, so... yeah.

Oh, and I'm considering a sequel. ;)

Ok, love you guys! Thank you for all the reviews, and those who don't review, if your out there, thank you as well for at least reading! Wow, this was a really longer header... huh... I'll try to make the next one shorter.

* * *

Terry groggily opened her eyes to a strange snarling sound, and stared blankly at the ceiling, mouth partially open. She wasn't surprised that the weight hugging her through much of the night was gone. She sat up, hair wild and crazy, matted on one side. Hands went up to rub at throbbing eyes.

They stopped suddenly.

Terry withdrew her hand, and stared at the stain of blood on it. A long cut ran down the palm of her hand, for the most part dry and scarring, but still oozing a slight bit towards the center. She glanced about curiously, eyebrow raised, and then lowered her hand to wipe the blood off on her Bermuda shorts.

The young girl shoved herself off her bed, and scanned the area, but again, the darkness of the room caused her the inability to see beyond the open window that leaked a slither of light. She blinked, but froze suddenly – the window hadn't been open earlier. Rationality proclaimed that Dib had opened it, but at the same time, she couldn't think of any reason why he would have. The room was perfectly fine temperature-wise, and he hadn't been there long, anyhow. She staggered to her feet and to the window, hearing the strange sound again.

Terry gasped, and stumbled back.

In the moonlight, two skeletal shadows faced each other in crouched positions, black silhouettes among the bare ragged branches of a tree outside. One had an unfathomably bad haircut and handled knives. The other was cloaked in a tattered coat, a round protrusion near the abdomen the only interruption to the slender form. Long claws wrapped around the base of the branch it was crouched on, its back hunched over in attack position. A head of long, spiked hair wavered behind this creature. (For those who know who Dark from DNAngel is, picture his hair. If you don't know him, Google image him.) One she recognized… one she didn't.

"Nny?" she questioned shakily. Johnny seemed to notice her, and his head snapped up, his eyes locking with hers.

"Run!" he screamed hoarsely as the other's head snapped upward. Terry didn't exhale after her breath.

Two white eyes missing pupils or irises gazed at her from a familiar face. Blood dripped down jagged teeth. Terry's heart pounded against her chest, lungs screaming from deprivation of oxygen. The beast grinned vilely and began savagely clambering up a branch closer to her. All she could do was stumble away as she watched horror become reality.

Until Johnny's arms strapped around the creature's neck, wrestling to hold him back. The man's own blades cut into his elbows as he retained the howling monster in a headlock. "I said go!" he screamed, "And take Gaz!"

Terry watched in horror as with inhuman strength, the fiend's shoulders ripped free, and the creature whipped around to assault the homicidal maniac. They fell, until with a loud crash, they landed on the ground atop a pile of broken tree-limbs, still fighting.

A blue cackle of electricity began wrapping around the monster's claws, and Terry tore away as she heard screams of pain, racing down the hall to Gaz's room.

"Get up!" she screamed, flinging through the door. Gaz jolted upwards, pure loathing etched into her features.

"What are you doing in my room at four in the morning?" the girl hissed, fists clenched. Terry, too scared to be intimidated, grasped her wrist. "What the hell are you doing?" she shrieked, jerking her arm away.

"We've got to go! Now!" Terry insisted, and without even registering the insults thrown unto her, tugged the other teenager towards the stairs.

"What are we running from?" Gaz asked moodily.

"Fr-"

Terry didn't have time to explain, as a window shattered open, and a man limply fell through, blood streaking on the floor as he slid across it. He worked to sit up, and the creature followed through the window, spreading even more glass, its nails and teeth full of blood. It also left veins of crimson as it slid across the floor, claws screeching as they created canals in the smooth surface. It stalked toward Johnny on all fours, gracefully, like a panther. The madman facing the foul being bravely brandished a soaked knife, gazing intently. In turn, the claws of the beast maliciously sparked their strange powers.

"Don't breath." Terry whispered to Gaz, who seemed rigid.

"Is that… Dib?"

The head snapped up again, and let out an inhuman shriek of triumph, racing towards them, gaining electrical charge. Johnny chased after them, and Terry shoved Gaz back up the stairs. "Go, go, go!" she yelled.

"Have you even thought of where?" Gaz asked, coolly and sarcastically as ever.

"There!"

"Oh shit."

The two burst through the glass of the nearest window, monster hounding them. They hit the ground, and even Gaz struggled to retain a moan, but scrambled to their feet as the monster landed on its feet behind them. It was much faster than both of them, and raced forward, gaining on them as they stumbled through the yard.

Then, a high-pitched whine sounded. Gaz took no chances, but Terry glanced back, and watched as Johnny and brute again dog-piled, tearing into each other in a wriggling, bloody mess.

"Terry, are you stupid?"

"But, he-"

"If he wanted us dead, he wouldn't be struggling with that thing right now. So come on!" Gaz grasped her guest's wrist, and pulled her along.

And so the two girls fled into the bleak, starless night.

* * *

"I think we're ahead enough to rest." Gaz said nearly thirty minutes later, and allowed her butt to fall unto the sidewalk. Terry crouched, too uneasy to sit. Gaz rolled her eyes at the other girl's insecurity.

"This is all… so…."

"Insane?" Terry glanced at Gaz, who was picking the lint out of her purple shorts, then tugged on a string at the bottom of her black shirt. "Well, that's my life for you. But I never thought I'd see him again."

"Who?"

"Nobody." Gaz said sharply, realizing her slip in words. Terry took the hint, and stare down at her bare feet. She figured they must be quite a sight, two girls in the middle of nowhere sitting on a sidewalk at four in the morning in their pajamas and frazzled hair.

"So where are we going?"

"Zim's."

"Zim's?"

"At least you're smarter than my brother. He would have screamed and given us away."

"I rather not talk about Dib right now."

"Mutual agreement." Terry rested her bandaged forearms across her knees, staring blankly at the asphalt street. "Zim is the only person around here with a truly secure house – if you can call it that. If we're forceful enough, he'll let us in."

"Forceful? How so?"

"Grimly forceful. Put on the most ghastly expression you can muster, threaten his spleen, and march into his fortress."

"I don't think he has a spleen to threaten."

"It has the same effect as it would on anybody else." Gaz shrugged, and glared into the night. "We better start moving." Terry nodded, her mind full of static. She didn't – couldn't – understand. Somehow, the roles of Johnny and Dib seemed to have switched places dramatically, and now they were taking shelter among the enemy.

So to shelter her head from a bubbling migraine, she turned it off and followed dully.

* * *

"Yes my Tallests, you see, I have learned about this 'Terry'. She functions much like a sir unit for the Dib, following his orders. Even more, he seems to have developed a bond of sorts to her. But perhaps if I reversed her thinking, I could use her against him! It would be unbearable to him!"

Zim stared up hopefully at his leaders, a grin spread across his face. The red one stroked his chin, while the purple one winced as he attempted to open a plastic pixy-stick tube with his teeth. "For once, I think you may have a good idea." Red said thoughtfully, raising an antenna suspiciously.

"Yes, amazing, aren't I?" Zim beamed, the insult passed by his leader's comment passing over his head. "So of course, you'll send me proper equipment, won't you?"

Purple choked on the tube, and Red began drumming his fingers. "Well…."

"Warning, intruders at the front door." A mechanical voice boomed, and Zim jumped, eyes large.

"Surely not the Dib this early?"

"No, it's not the big-headed child." The computer droned, "Too bad, it's so entertaining when your blood gets in the carpet." The Tallests rose invisible eyebrows at the computer's sudden sarcastic personality, but Zim merely scratched his chin.

"Fine. I'm sorry my Tallests, but I must once again fend off trespassers. I will call you again soon." Zim said, saluting, and cut the message off.

He marched resolutely to the elevator, and stepped in, crossing his arms. He drummed his fingers against his elbow as the elevator slowly rose. Gir suddenly popped in from the emergency exit, plopping on top of the invader's head. "Where we is going, master?" he cooed.

"Too the house. There are interlopers among us!" Zim exclaimed importantly, removing his robot from his head. The little machine screeched in laughter and slammed into the wall, dashing about the confined space.

Finally, they rose into the chilly fridge, Zim marching out as his robot hopped to the ground and searched the cabinets for goodies. Zim flipped on the dim-lights and proceeded. The Irken was only a few feet from the door when it slammed open, Gaz bursting in from the darkness. "E-ghad!" Zim yelped, shielding his eyes from the intense burn her stare seemed to radiate. He peeked over his arm, squinting. "What do you want, Dib-sister?"

"Dib's on rampage. We need a place to stay." Zim noted Terry behind her, giving off that creepy expressionless stare she formed to daunt people. He straightened his posture and glared. This could possibly hamper his plans… or facilitate them.

"And what would be the bargain?" he asked slyly, grinning in his shark-like manner. Gaz frowned, curling her fists.

"The options?"

"Give me Terry." He hissed.

"And a whole bunch of Doritos!" Gir screamed, popping into existence from the kitchen doorway. Terry waited for Gaz to agree, the deal to be done. She was shocked when the girl gave her answer.

"Or I could give you hellish pain beyond what you could ever hallucinate." Gaz responded, and Zim uneasily backed off as the shadows in his house seemed to close in upon him. "Your answer, Zim." She hissed impatiently.

"Fine, but only if you cease… whatever it is that you are doing!" Zim settled, and the atmosphere seemed to lighten, the constricting feeling about his limbs calming as well. "How much security are you searching for?"

"Maximum."

"Of course… and what exactly was the meaning for all this?"

"That's none of your-"

"I wasn't asking you." Zim said sharply, and stared straight at Terry, who hadn't yet said a word. Her threatening expression disappeared into bewilderment and fear. "Terry, if I am correct?"

She balled her fists, and slunk outside, shaking her head. "This is stupid, Gaz. He'll probably dissect us the moment we turn around."

"Yeah, and so will Dib. It's either here or there."

Zim watched the exchange in confusion, as Gaz, who was of small stature herself, grasped Terry's forearm. The green-haired girl averted her eyes, biting her lip. It was funny, how Gaz finally was at the same level with someone – but Gaz was the more developed of the two, hosting ideal curves. Terry, poor girl, still had a budding chest, and thus had less of a chance to attract males of her species by physical form. Human anatomy was disgusting, but the culture it created was intriguing. His mind roamed this, completely distracted from the argument the two girls were holding.

Terry glared up at Zim after a few minutes, and her eyes meeting his snapped him to reality. "I don't want to." He felt insulted.

"What is it with you? Dib is the one who's attacking us." Zim smirked slyly, agreeing with Gaz.

"Because I know that he's probably at this moment figuring out just how he can use this to his advantage. Because he's just another cold loyal servant to the bastards who are too lazy to go out and do his job themselves." Zim frowned, a pang against his stomach. Though, he couldn't deny her logic – he was amazing, after all.

"So he wants to take over Earth? According to Hollywood, what alien doesn't?"

"He's soulless."

"Zim is not!" he yelped, and the two glanced at him. He averted his gaze. Had he just… admitted to being defective? His mind reeled. "Fine." He muttered, crossing to the kitchen, oblivious to the spaghetti strung across the walls as Gir painted portraits with blue Jell-o on the ceiling. He leaned his head against the doorway, feeling the urge to beat the walls. And he would… as soon as he was alone.

"J-just like that?" Terry stammered, befuddled. Gaz squinted in suspicion.

"Computer, take these worms to level negative twenty-nine." He mumbled, clasping temples in his palm, straining to keep his words steady. Gaz stared at the alien then glanced at Terry, who seemed similarly surprised as they sunk through the floor.

* * *

Gaz stared at Terry's cot, the girl deep in a troubled sleep. Gaz squinted – 'She deserves those nightmares for waking me up at four in the morning.'

She picked at the dust on the ground. The face Zim had made still haunted her, not matching any description she had of him. She attempted to claw it out of her mind, but couldn't seem to. So she stood and began looking around for the exit.

She found it as a tiny dot in the center of the floor. She tapped her foot on it, but received no answer. "Zim's room – or wherever he is." She commanded, and a hole in the wall opened. She shrugged, walking to this. She was fazed as she was suctioned into a tube, traveling at high speeds upwards.

* * *

Gaz clambered out of small hole, slightly dizzy, but keen none the less. She was Gaz, after all. A moment of orientation allowed her to see the slight dents in the wall and the broken glass. She shrugged this off, and stepped over it, her elusive ways not even creating a snap on the shards.

She walked around a corner, and wasn't surprised to meet Zim's back leaning against the wall. She poked the PAK attached to his spine, and he jolted, head snapping upwards. He snarled, despite the puddles of confusion and self-examination woven into his gaze. "Yes, human?"

"You're whining." She crossed to his other side, sliding down across the wall, staring at the opposite one. He scoffed, turning his head as his claws picked at the palm of his gloves. She took notice. "By the way, I like your gloves." He stopped instantly, and squinted at her in confusion. She took one of his hands, turning it over as she studied it. "But I'd have to cut holes in it, seeing as how you lack two fingers." She smirked as he raised an antenna.

"Zim lacks nothing!"

"Then what are you so upset about?"

He jerked his hand away, staring at the ground. "Your small brain-meats would never be able to grasp-"

"Ha, right. Fine, whatever, don't tell me. Moron."

They sat in silence for a long time, before Zim again picking at the palm of his gloves. "I've lived a long life."

"Yeah, and?"

"I'm only slightly older than you in human years, though."

"Uh-huh."

"Do you believe it's plausible to live so many years of your life in a possible lie?"

"I don't get where you're going with this."

He sighed, squinting. "In human years, I'd be fifteen. It will take me many years to turn sixteen. Do you think a human can live fifteen years in a lie?"

"Yeah, I can believe that."

"Now look at yourself, and astoundingly intelligent human, but not as intelligent as Zim, of course. Do you believe you could live fifteen years in a lie?"

"No."

Zim stopped picking at his hands, and stared at the ground solemnly. "In Irken society… you are supposed to be soulless. And yet… here I am… emotional." He struggled with his last word, as it left a bitter residue of fear over his tongue.

"There's nothing wrong with emotions."

"You, saying that? You don't understand."

"I do. I simply tend to channel pessimistic emotions more often than happy ones." Gaz shrugged at his odd stare. "It's the way I am."

"Can you… channel… positive emotions?"

"Yes, I just chose not to." She stated coldly, "But you're going off-topic."

"Right… well… in Irken society, being soulless is the goal of every Irken. True, while none but Spork have ever come near to success, those who show emotions are considered weak, and often the PAK is programmed to tune emotions to a minimum depth. Yet… all my amazing life… all my emotions have been extreme. If an Irken is angry, they are supposed to only register it as slightly irritated. But instead, something stimulates me to feel even more angered. It is most confusing."

"I don't understand why you're telling me this."

"Well, you are the first being to ever show concern. I think…."

Gaz smirked, hair falling before her thin gold eyes. He watched her movements carefully, as she leaned towards him. "Well, on Earth, it's fine. Chill out." She said lowly, and he stared down as his hands again.

He was shocked as she placed her hand in his, five fingers splaying across his three. Zim stared with wide-eyes as she gestured with her free hand. "You see, they may be different, but they're still there. Both of us have two hands, two legs, two eyes-"

"But we're very different, foolish smeet."

"Are we?" He turned towards her in confusion. She slowly took a breath as she prepared her next words. "I've never been planet-traveling, big surprise, right? But… I notice that all the aliens that come here, they all have one thing in common. We all have souls. It's the one thing that ties us together. Heck, Gir isn't even living and he has a soul. The universe is in tune through this one piece of us. Through all our intentions, all are cultures, all our planets, that remains. Even, as you said, in your society. Souls cannot be deleted – only suppressed. And when you suppress a soul, you lose everything life has to offer."

''But… what can this do for Zim?"

"You, particularly, have free soul, and thus passion, which makes an individual strong. It gives you a reason to live. But you have to use the full extent of the soul to have passion. The rest of your society has suppressed souls and so have no passion, and is weak, so they have to devise a reason to live. That reason will never be fulfilling, and so, in the end, they'll fall to the depths of a pit of doom, from which none may return."

Zim blinked, and glanced down at their hands, watching as she began to play with the hems of his gloves. "If this is true, how does a mere Earthling know all this?"

Gaz's eyes flashed. "You don't need to know that." She calmly lifted his hand, removing his glove. He made to wrench his limb away, but she grasped it firmly, tracing the subtle lines in his hand. His fingers, long but curved to a sharp point, she stroked. "Irkens are pretty neat, huh?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I suppose." He mumbled, pulling his hand away, and snatched his glove again.

"Why do you always hide yourselves? It's stupid."

He glanced at her. "Why do you humans wear such skimpy garb?"

"My dad doesn't." She rolled her eyes as she said this.

"Yes, well, he is one of the few exceptions to your barbaric immodesty."

Gaz took his hand back before he could finish stuffing it into the glove, and pulled his sleeve up, examining his elbow, which was smooth and slightly pointy. He winced, as she ran a finger down his flesh, free of hair follicles. She bent lower to it, examining its slick make-up, although it was plush and slightly thicker than human skin. She massaged his knuckles, allowing a charming smile to cross her features - an unusual smile, one of relaxed focus but with her same intensity. He marveled, as she searched for any visible veins.

"My mom was intrigued by aliens, you know." She stroked his palm, leaning closer. "Maybe… there's a little something genetic left in me from her besides looks." She watched as he observed her hands. "Maybe… there's a little bit of her gene in all of us. A common passion among all living things with fully functioning souls… perhaps… is the passion one has towards other living things. That's just a guess, though."

Zim slowly traced the shape of her fingers, no longer hesitating to show his curiosity. "I thought you didn't care about anyone else but yourself…."

"If that were true, would I be here, smart stuff?" She leaned her shoulder against his, showing herself friendly. "The world is about one of us, yet all of us. The universe is a gigantic jigsaw puzzle, and every soul is a piece. Souls that are past this life, souls that are yet born, they're there too - without one soul, the universe is incomplete, so one individual does make all the difference. Unfortunately, this doesn't make them or the universe any less stupid. But as souls can never be destroyed, the universe is always complete. The world is for me. The world is for Gir. The world is for you. Without your soul, none of this would be possible." Her gold eyes met his for a fleeting second, before she glared at the wall. "Stupid world."

He smiled gently as he aligned his fingers again with hers. For once in his life… he somehow felt he had a place in the universe she so passionately insulted.

He had a soul.

* * *

So, class, any questions? Lol, just kidding.


	10. Valedictions

Yes, my short interlude of a chapter. I would have made it part of chapter nine, but I figured that after all that philosophy, you'd rather have a break. Remember - give hints of how to make Johnny Johnny-ish! Scrawl it on your foreheads and stare at the mirror until it is imprinted into your heads and telepathically send me theinformation you gather! Or just incoporate it into a review...

Oh, and what do you think of the new description? Any more appealing than the previous?

Some of you were confused about Dib and Nny switching roles. That jsut means that once Dib was Terry's hero and Johnny was the enemy, but now Johnny is the hero and Dib is the enemy. Pretty simple, that is. The philosophy comes in later.

* * *

A small shadow sat up in the bleak of the room. There were no windows or doors, and the lights were slow to brighten into a dim glow. Green eyes blinked, and knees were pulled to a chest, arms wrapped about them. The dread of living seeped into this being's consciousness, and she stared blankly at the floor, lost in remorse.

She stayed like this for a long time, fully aware that outside a new day had dawned – a day she didn't want to live. She tightened her fists as tears threatened to bubble. What had she seen the previous night? What was happening? What happened to him? Was Johnny still alive?

Finally, a tube shot open, and an energetic little robot splattered against the opposite wall. She watched as he peeled himself off, and giggled insanely. "It's day!" he proclaimed over and over, marching about her room, then jumped unto her cot, grasping her arms as he screamed "Good morning, oh floating one! Have you seen the taco man?" Terry stared at his big cyan eyes then looked away, towards her cot, still searching for answers within herself. "Awe… what's wrong floatin' lady? Did da taco man forget to deliver your burritos?"

"No, robot dog thing. Please go away now."

"But master says I's gots to stay till you gets up!" Gir exclaimed, pulling on her arms. "Awe… what wrong, lady? You can tell me! I won't tell no ones… cept maybe piggy!"

"I don't even remember your name. How can I tell you about my life?"

"I be Gir!" he squealed, and stuck his tongue out in his cute little stupid way, eyes closed cheerfully in the strange little arches they often produced.

"Gir, go away."

"Ok!" The little robot hopped down, but then put his mitten-like hand to his chin. "Wait… but master says I gots to get you… and if I don't get you, den I didn't do what da master says… but you said not to get you… and if I do the duckies will punish me! AH!" he screeched, holding his head. She watched wide-eyed as he rose into the air, sparking, then landed back down with a goofy smile as if nothing had occurred, saying "Okie-dokie!"

With that, he walked to the wall and was siphoned back into the tube.

* * *

It was several minutes later before Terry conjured the nerve to face the day, and was suctioned up the tube to a higher level in the most dizzying of ways. She stumbled out of the toilet as she protruded out of it, clutching her stomach as it churned. She hardly noticed the object she sloshed through as she eased her way unto solid ground, attempting to regain her orientation.

"Owe, hey, watch it!" The yell was like that of a cougar's, and Terry managed to focus to find the source. She stumbled forward, using various edges to support her.

"Then stop wiggling, you ungrateful… beast… yogurt-filled… thing!"

Terry peaked around the corner of the kitchen, and her jaw slackened a bit at the odd sight. Gaz was sitting on the couch, sinking into its squishy surface, with a horrid expression of loathing on her face. Zim was kneeled before her, holding one of her legs as he carefully wound her ankle in gauze, overlapping a brace. Terry blinked several times, wondering if she was delusional, but the sight didn't evaporate.

"I would stop if you wouldn't pinch me with your stupid claws!" she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

Terry merely continued to stare, as neither had noticed her yet. Finally, she shook her head and trudged back into the kitchen, rummaging for food.

About twenty minutes later, they joined her in the kitchen. It was approximately noon, and for a world that was shattering, it was sure sunny and cheery out. "What was that about?" she managed to ask, prodding the mysterious orange goop she had found in a container in the fridge with her finger. It reminded her oddly of melted jolly-rancher. Gaz's expression darkened at the question, and she turned her back, searching. Zim sneered.

"She has a minor sprain of the ankle – with Irken technology, though, she should be well within the week. Am I not amazing?"

"Oh." He noticed her lack of energy, the black marks under her eyes telling the story of a night of anguish. The green alien pulled up a chair across from her, informally challenging her to a staring contest. She refused to look at anything but the goop before her, which he pushed aside. She continued to stare at the table where it had once sat.

"What is wrong with you, human? Have you the stomach crawlies?"

"Moron, can't you get that she's depressed? I swear, sometimes you can be so stupid." Gaz intervened, carelessly tossing some cans over her shoulder. It managed to hit Zim's cranium, and he winced, rubbing the spot of impact.

"What for? You are in the abode of Zim, are you not?"

"Leave me alone Zim."

"Ha, foolish Earthling, your emotions have consumed you like the parasites of Gawqrmeel!" He pointed at her accusingly, and she lightly shoved his finger away from her chest. He squinted. "You must be one of those 'emos' Gir speaks of…."

"Zim." Gaz warned as Terry's face lowered, bangs casting shadows across her hidden eyes.

"No, let him bluff, seeing as how he's so god-damned superior to everyone else." Terry hissed, raising her piercing gaze. Zim crossed his arms across his chest, an antenna rising.

"I see no reason for you to hold a grudge when I allow you to stay in my household." He said coolly, leaning back deeply so that the legs of his chair lifted off the ground. He rested his feet on the table, waiting for her response as he drummed his fingers impatiently.

"Well, gee, I wonder why I would… considering you've tried to kill me numerous times." Terry muttered, glaring him. They both held the gaze, tension building. Gaz's fist curled – the tension was beginning to annoy her. "Besides, I'll be out of your precious base soon enough."

Zim leaned forward, lowering his feet to the floor. "Say what?"

Terry raised her chin. "You heard me."

"And why exactly would you do that?"

"Because I need to get Dib back, which is impossible if you're trying to kill me." Terry licked her top row of teeth, watching his reactions.

Zim rose from his chair, and to Terry's shock and horror, leaned against the back of hers. He glanced up at the ceiling, thinking, mouthing words to himself in a foreign tongue. "So you are going to essentially commit suicide simply to win back the foolish Dib-monkey, yet you are afraid of little old Zim?" he questioned, and she squinted up at him. He let out a sigh, tapping the arch of her seat. "What if I told you that I would spare you this one time?"

"Why on Earth would you do that?"

He raised an antenna, stroking his chin. Gaz gazed at him coldly in suspicion. Strangely enough, though, he seemed to have to think over the question. "Because, of course, you will tell me of all Dib's future schemes if you succeed, and support my reign once Earth is conquered." He responded several moments later. "I will supply your weapons and headquarters if you agree."

The green-haired teenager glanced over at Gaz, who simply turned her head. She was on her own. She looked back up at the green alien, who was now staring down thoughtfully at her. "You're kind, Zim… too kind… what are you planning?"

"No, my dear Earth monkey, this has nothing to do with planning. But your existence does entertain me. It would be a shame to allow such amusement to fade from history." He said quite cheekily, and she winced, cringing as he ruffled her hair. It remained untidy once he finished, and he walked down the length of the table, trailing a finger upon it. "You have grown on me much like Gir has, like an insane little weed. And as much as it pains me to admit it the filth… reek… Dib… has also grown on me in this matter. Both of you will make excellent slaves of my very own."

Terry snorted, and he growled at her ignorance. "So where does Gaz fit in… and Membrane… and my mom… and my friends?"

"Membrane, of course, will be used wisely. Your friends may potentially be obliterated, but if spared, will be low-class drones. If you desire, your mother may become a status two lower than your own. And Gaz-" He glanced at the violet haired girl, who narrowed her eyes in return. "I have much larger plans for the Gaz." Gaz leaked into the shadows, irritation playing across her features.

Terry scanned him over, and then glanced out the window. "Fine…." She agreed tensely, balling her fists, "But you will keep your word."

"It is the honor of an Irken Elite."

"Then, Mr. Elite, let's get started."

* * *

In the glow of the morning, the city gleamed, bathed in light that downsized its murky tendencies. The sound of traffic had begun, sirens ringing back and forth. The towers reached into the sky, and atop a particular structure was perched a dark figure.

This creature squatted, its nails piercing the ledge of the roof, long and curved. Blind white eyes stared into nothing, and a sick, twisted nightmarish grin stretched cheek to cheek. Loose hair billowed in the breeze behind, as did the tattered cloak that appeared as tendrils of shadow. Its long shadow cast itself upon the grey building, even more horrible than the original. Blood stained this beast's muzzle and claws.

A few feet behind it lay an abandoned crimson-drenched knife, cold and still.

* * *

Lightweight but durable alloy coating a thick black, spongy material followed the shape and curves of a human child, who stared at the reflective surface of the clean metal wall. As the wall was maroon, the reflection was tinted the same tone. A visor on a thick helmet was lowered, and another gun added to the collection hanging from a thick belt.

"Terry?"

She stared at her shoulder, listening as footsteps clicked upon the floor. "Yes?" she answered stiffly, raising the visor once again. She grasped yet another gun, allowing it to hang loosely to her side as a light touch against the back of her head was felt. It was not a touch of human culture, she knew for sure.

"Come back alive."

Alien and girl stood in silence in the room covered wall-to-wall in weapons. Girl continued to stare at the wall. "Why would that be so important to you?"

"I'm not sure, human, but heed my words, anyhow."

"I'll try to." He stumbled back as she whipped around, grasping him in a hug. She buried her head in his chest, her hand fingering his PAK. "But if I die, I will miss you."

"What?" he stammered, shocked.

"You heard what I said." Her eyes gazed up, weary and tired – she didn't expect to return. "You're one of the biggest parts of my life… and I really wish sometimes… that things could have been different between the three of us."

Zim blinked down at this armor-clad girl, going to war with what had once been the most major part of her life. He could see the lines under her eyes from missing sleep, the fear beyond her façade. "You truly expect to die?" She closed her eyes, leaning against him. Tentatively, he patted her back, glancing about awkwardly. Lowering his voice, he softly whispered. "It has been a pleasure fighting with you."

She dropped her gun, burying her face in his shirt. "I just want things normal again." She squeaked.

* * *

Gaz watched as Terry stuffed her bag full of supplies. She approached quietly. "Why are you going alone?"

"Because someone has to stop him before he kills everything." Terry mumbled, shoving a few cartridges of a strange alien food into her bag. Gaz raised an eyebrow, and the green-haired girl paused for a minute. "It just seems like… somehow… I'm his conscience. You know?" she said, glancing upwards, and glanced at one of the cartridges uneasily, but packed it none the less.

"So why not get Zim to go with you?"

"Zim can follow if he wants. You can too if you ever find it in your heart to feel anything for your idiot brother. But my plan can only involve me."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm the only other human to be abducted with Dib." She turned to stare at Gaz, who seemed to be having a bit of a hard time wrestling down a scoff. "I'm not kidding. There was something that took us up. And if it's taken me once, I can make it take me again."

"But why aliens? That's a pretty stupid trick to pull, I mean."

"Because they may know something I don't." Terry informed, and finished stuffing her bag. She stared at it for several minutes before speaking again. "I'll probably die."

"No duh."

She glanced up at Gaz, frowning. "No, I'm being serious. You know Gaz, there are things about you that I really hate. The fact that you beat Dib I can't stand. Your hatred for every living soul is nearly unbearable… yet…." She pensively pressed her alloy-covered fingertips together "You make one hell of an amazing person."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah." Terry nodded, and blinked as Gaz's hand jutted forward. She looked up curiously. "What?"

"It's a hand, moron. Shake it."

Terry's face softened, and she took Gaz's hand, watching the other girl's gold eyes as they said goodbye. "Later Gaz."

Gaz nodded, retracting her hand. The two stood in silence for a moment, before Terry slung her bag over her shoulder, leaving the room. The remaining stared after her, grasping her skull necklace. Her eyes downcast, she whispered, "Bye Terry."

* * *

A young female stood like a proud statue in the street against the beams of golden rays the sun cast against her armor, causing it to become a tone of copper, her hair dancing wildly about. She shouldered her baggage and lifted the supplied helmet, placing it over her head. Her green eyes disappeared behind the lowered flexi-glass visor, tinted so her face wasn't visible, and solemnly, she left the security of Zim's neighborhood, step by step.

Her form was black against the sun's radiation and the fire burning from the city ahead.

* * *

Uh-huh, yup. A cheesy hero clip to ruin your day. Sorry, I couldn't resist.


	11. Rhyme And Reason

From here on out, I won't interupt the story with headings. I've decided to make a little bit of optional ZADR fluff. All rights still to Jhonen.

* * *

Silence dripped in the neighborhood as the clack of metallic shoes filled the air. Only a distant siren could be heard racing down the highway. Along the pavement, one click after another - a shadow cast its shape upon the grass, wavering with the individual strands.

A wrinkled face scrunched as aged eyes gazed at this being from a rocking chair, creaking slowly. The figured stopped, and gazed upward at this man. Its helm nodded, and he leaned forward to stare at the intruder into the neighborhood.

The warrior continued forward, unfazed, and walked slowly and deliberately to a particular house on this street. The building was in shambles, but none the less the armor-clad sapien slipped into the ajar door, half of which was stripped away.

Feet clicked across the ground slowly, and a creak was heard. The figure stopped, glancing about beneath the visor. Another creak – the armored shoulder tensed, and crouched, fingering a belt of weapons. From the dark, heavy breathing, a snarl – the solider drew a gun with an uneasy hand.

It pounced, lunging out from the dark, and the figure gasped, narrowly dodging. The beast howled as it hit the wall, but quickly shuffled to its feet and jumped again, managing to pry the floorboards up into shards of wood as it trapped the warrior. The knight was ready though, and drew a gun with a shaky hand, thrusting the butt of it against the monster's head.

The monster merely snarled, and cast the tool away, and readied to plunge its sharp row of teeth into the spongy material about its victim's throat. But out of the darkness, another form sprung, and tackled the feign off the warrior. The two wrestled on the ground, and the warrior relocated the gun, stalking forward the beast. She rested the nose of it against the back of the monster's head, who was on the top of the pile. Its head tilted upward, and the warrior fingered the trigger.

But the warrior did not have the guts to serve the deed.

So the fighter on the bottom of the mound took the privilege to brandish a gleaming blade, thrusting it upwards. It missed, though, and caught the warrior in the leg. The warrior stumbled as blood began oozing, and waited for the beast to make the opportune moment.

But instead, it simply stared up at its enemy, and oddly, what might have been irises peaking down from the upper lids of its eyes. This gave the warrior a moment to stagger away, but was soon chased by the beast, whatever glimmer of heart it had shown disappearing. The warrior managed to knock against the opposite wall of the room before having to turn about to face the creature, who pulled her down, claws ringing about her neck.

But the sliver of the irises lowered a bit again, and confused, the beast stumbled away from her, ripping at its chest, shaking violently as it tripped amongst the ground. It raced back to the front of the house, where a desolate scream could be heard, a loud crash, a shatter of a window, then loud barking of dogs outside.

The armor-clad being stood, squinting into the dim, quite shocked. Feet slowly marched forward, dreading what they might find.

The scent of blood leaked through the first quarter of the wrecked house, but it slowly dissipated. Obviously, for some reason, the combatants had fled… or, at least, one of them. A moan issued from a corner of the room, and the face of the crusading figure turned towards the sound.

Part of the ceiling had caved in, dust littering the light flowing through the hole above – another groan, followed by a husky utterance. The being stalked forward, and kneeled, tossing pieces of wood and remains of furniture aside. Finally, a hand became available, groping, and the armor dressed hand of the salvager grasped it, pulling.

From the pile, coughing and sputtering, crawled a dusty man, blood caking his body. He rolled over, squinting into the light. The gleam of metal caught his eye, and he let out a shaky exhale. "Damn…." He muttered, blinking heavily, and continued to cough. A firm hold pulled him up, helping him to compose himself.

Finally, he managed to find a point where he could truly focus. He glanced at his aide, who was much smaller than him. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously then swept his hair back with his hands. "Oh shit… I'm not in heaven again, am I?"

"It's Terry. I need your help." The visor lifted, and she stared intently. He blinked, bewildered, but a grin spread across his face his face. He said only one word in response.

"Shit…."

* * *

"And that's all I know." Johnny leaned back against the wall, and Terry rubbed the nape of her neck. Both sat on boxes, the helmet resting on the girl's knee, her brow sweating.

"Why do you think he would run?" Terry asked, gazing about. They were in one of the underground chambers of Johnny's house, as the upper level was anything but safe. Johnny shrugged.

"I don't know, but the sun rose and he ran off towards the city."

"Hmm." Terry hummed, resting her forehead in her palms. Nny watched her carefully. "You aren't hiding anything… are you?"

"Nothing you'd need to know." He answered. She sighed, green hair oddly matted, the top of it beginning to poke up. It truly was untamable.

"Thanks for saving me last night… and today."

He nodded, and drummed his fingers upon his knees. "So what exactly are you here for again?"

"I need you to re-enact the time you… you know… when we first met face to face." She stammered awkwardly, and he let out a deep breath, scratching his forehead as he fixated his eyes on the ground.

"Because…."

"I need to get abducted again."

He rambled a bit under his breath, and then brushed his shirt off. "I'll help you… on one condition."

"What?"

He squinted at her. "You tell them they can have my memory back."

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him on the topic. Instead, she asked "And if they don't?"

"Then tell them I said they will end what they started or I'll kill every last one of them."

* * *

Terry lay stretched across the table, wearing a rather large set of Johnny's clothes that smelled pungently of closet and mothballs. She breathed slowly as her gauze was languidly unwrapped to reveal the nasty injuries about her wrists and back, yet to be healed. Two buckets rested on the floor on either side of her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" a voice asked her calmly. She nodded, clutching the gun in her grasp tightly. Swiftly, a blade was raised, and a gash was traced down her wrist. Another incision was made across the other. A pause – "Are we done yet?"

"No." she sighed, and braced herself.

She shrieked out as the blade was drug across the pattern in her back, unfathomable amounts of pain gurgling as blood seeped down. It seemed to go on for eternity, the slow tracing of her wounds, but finally, the light spilled down, and she found her vision glowing blurry.

It could be heaven, it could be hell. Or it could be a UFO.

* * *

A black pit was all visible, but she continued to resist against it, racing for the dim light at the end of the dark tunnel. She panted, heart racing, and could feel an air of panic about her. And finally, her palm managed to grasp out and clutch unto the fabrics of reality.

She inhaled deeply as she forced herself upwards, causing the beings about her to step away. She panted, glancing around wildly as she stared up at grey faces with deep black eyes. Terry sighed, leaning against her arms, taking heavy breaths. She had made it. She was pleased as well to see that her weapon was on a table not too far away.

The aliens about her chattered in their language, but she paid no mind. She simply rubbed her temples, conjuring up her questions, which were slower to come than her awareness. She noticed a being coming at her with a syringe, and she ducked away, shaking her head fiercely.

"No!" she said, standing erect. They stared at her, blinking slowly. "Do you speak English?" she asked sluggishly, using her hands to animate her speech. They glanced at each other, and so she tapped at her mouth hastily. They talked among themselves, and finally, one strode forwards in the elegant manner of these people.

"I am speak some English." It said, working hard to use the correct words. She smiled, and nodded. "We am to sedate you. Stay to be calm."

"No, do not sedate me. I come to ask questions." They narrowed their eyes, and shook their heads. The one before her cleared his throat.

"We is do not know origins of universe." His (or her, as the being as no gender distinguishing features) voice, she noticed, was slick and gentle, like a coo of a dove, and of the accent of someone from India. They all spoke in this fashion, calmly and frankly, despite translation problems.

"No. I ask about my friend. Dib." The group became ruffled, and she nodded, broadening her hands. "He has changed. He is going crazy. Something is wrong. He is attacking. What do you know?"

"We is have better English speak than I. Can to be here soon. Must to walk across ship. Talk is important. No?"

"It is. How long until he can be here?"

"Earth minutes ten plus five."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You mean fifteen?" He turned to his peers, who made a slight head-movement, and he repeated it to her. She took it as a nod. So, patiently, she sat on top of the autopsy table, allowing them to continue re-wrapping her gauze.

"Did much to get on ship. Hurt self?" the alien who had spoken to her earlier asked, wrapping one of her wrists.

"Yes, but I had to." The alien gazed down curiously at her, and she smiled up kindly. His eyes rose in surprise, and she said quickly "It means I am happy. Very pleased." He stared at her in curiosity, and awkwardly attempted to repeat the expression, his pointy puppy-like teeth showing cutely. "No, more like this." She said, making the face he did, then slowly morphed it into a smile. He managed to repeat her, and her grin broadened. His smile disappeared, but he raised his cheekbones as his eyes sparkled.

"You is to be humor alien." He said, tightening her bandages.

"You mean I'm funny? Well…." She said, raising an eyebrow. His cheekbones rose again, and he rose his brow ridge.

"We does too. Many reason, like to be surprise." He made the slight, just barely noticeable head-motion she had seen earlier. "Is our to nod."

"Ah, I see." She replied, and showed her smile, pointing to it. "I am not this. Dib is my friend. I want to help him. You understand?"

"I to think." He said quietly, a thoughtful look crossing his features.

"My name is Terry. Do you have a name?"

"Name?"

"What others say you are?"

His cheekbones rose and fell in a quick motion, and she imagined that it was the blink humans gave when confused. "Is not."

"No name?"

"No name."

"Then I'll call you Cheek, ok? You are Cheek. I am Terry, you are Cheek."

"Cheek?" he asked, raising his brow-ridge.

She poked his cheek, and he gaped. "Because you use it to make many expressions." His cheek-bones raised, and he attempted to smile like a human, once more failing to. She again showed him the proper way, and he in exchange showed her how to smile like him.

The fifteen minutes passed quickly, and another tall figured tapped Cheek's elbow. Cheek made one of his strange little nods, and stepped away, conversing with another group. Terry watched, amused, as he showed them how to smile in the human way, though failing and creating a cheesy puppy-like face of excitement. The others raised their hair-free brows, and he sheepishly rubbed the center of his back, attempting to morph his face into the human smile again. "You came to talk of project DIB?"

She peered up at the new arrival, squinting. "I want to know everything you know about him."

* * *

Terry sat across from this alien in a sealed off room, which she guessed was sound barricaded. She leaned forward as he pressed his fingers together. "I suspect you know Membrane?"

"Yes."

"Well, I also presume you also know of the Roswell incident?" She leaned forward, and he smiled in his foreign way. "Roswell was an incident in an observation project. You see, as a race, we are finding ourselves less and less emotional. We have attempted to find a way to change this for many years, and that was one of them. We traced down the most emotional race we could find, and studied them. Unfortunately, one of our ships crashed into one of your government's top-secret devices. You can only imagine the uproar this caused."

"We write on legends such as this." He pulled one across his desk, and she stared at it. She had seen the likes of it on Roswell documentaries. He flipped it back and forth, and she watched in awe as the symbols changed. "These are made of nano-bots, but once they fail to continue operating, the message stays the same. It just so happens one landed on yet another plan for becoming more human-like."

"I don't understand how Membrane fits into this." She interrupted, "That was before his time."

"True, very true… but years before him, a father of one who worked for a government agency, and interrogated one of the few crew-members still alive on that ship."

"Is he still alive? The crew-member I mean."

The alien stared gravely at her, and fingered the legend. "No… no… they sliced the poor pilot open in the end. But that's beside the point. Anyhow, this father of one managed to get the crew member to translate the message on the legend. The man lied to his government, which we are eternally grateful for, and continued to live his normal, every-day life. Though, that didn't keep him from scribing an account of his experience." Terry watched the extra-terrestrial keenly. "Eventually, once he passed away, his son inherited his journal… his son was ingenious, a prodigy, he was-"

"Membrane?"

"Clever." The alien complimented, and pressed his thumbs together. "Now, Membrane was already partnered with a beautiful young lady we had the pleasure of contacting once or twice. And they had a son of their own around nineteen seventy-five."

"They… they did?" Terry stuttered.

"Indeed they did, but this is irrelevant. Membrane revealed his discovery to his mate, who foolishly gave him our contact information. And he struck a deal with us."

"What kind of deal?"

The alien leaned back. "He agreed that he would attempt to make a human that we could mingle our DNA in. And oh, the things he could create! Ingenious things! There was only one problem with them." She waited silently, as he stared her over. "They didn't have souls. So, they died. Or rather, they never lived. Beautiful sculptures of dead cells… this is what we originally called the GAZ project. It failed miserably. So, he eventually moved unto project DIB – one hundred percent human that we would later breed our own with. But he continued to fail. And fail. And fail. Eventually, we discontinued deleting his failures, as we figured that he would give up if we did. By this point, we had lost hope in him. But then… he created something alive."

"Dib?" she asked, leaning forward.

"Not the one that you are acquainted with." The alien sighed, running his fore-arm across his face. "No, this DIB was much more benevolent. You see… Membrane managed to create a soul… but it was a twisted, warped, ugly thing. And it was not of the body of the creature, but rather in containment, controlling it remotely. It was horribly unstable, and it nearly killed one of our top scientists when Membrane presented it to us. So sure, he had created an animated body… but hardly the one we were searching for."

"At the time, he had been attempting to create these beings in our likeness in mentality and abilities. They had many inhuman capabilities. We believed it was essential if we wanted what would be bred from it to continue to have these traits. Then, he decided to take another route. He started from near scratch, except for the fact of vainly copying his own cells, and tried creating something without any power or sentience or knowledge of any kind. Its mind was a blank slate, fresh and new. And it was this Dib that lived, and managed to grow into the one you know today."

"Then, only after this Dib had become a fetus did he begin adding capabilities. And these were not etched in as he had previously done, but were laid out potentials. If this new being developed so, he could be ingenious. If this new being developed so, he could be strong. Or he could be lightweight. He could have powers, or be normal. Whatever mutated DNA was triggered within the first few years of life would work. And many, such as intelligence and reflex, did developed. Who knows how many others were triggered that we have yet to seen in action!"

"So our super human was created, and as difficult we knew it would be, he would be our guinea pig. Using the same technology, Membrane also completed a one-hundred percent human GAZ out of a mixture of his and his wife's DNA, and in fact implanted her into his wife, but we observed powers in her that we decided would be best not to continue if we were to have emotions. So, thus, the DIB project moved on to step two, despite being male."

"But… what happened to the first child and Mrs. Membrane?"

"Well, through this, the wife was most angry, and the relationship between her and Membrane began to become stressed. Somehow, in the present DIB's third year of life, the mother was murdered. No one is sure who had done it, or if she had perhaps committed suicide, but by the end of it, the biological child was a wreck, poor boy. Membrane allowed him to stay, but after the disappearance of the soul of the first living DIB, kicked him out. He was around twenty at the time, and we figured that, as a troubled adult, he could potentially be a threat to the DIB you now know. We decided that it was best to block the boy's memory."

Terry's thought suddenly snapped into place, and she jumped up. Johnny had asked specifically to have the aliens reclaim his memories…. "Was the biological child's name Johnny?"

The alien glanced up at her, stroking his chin. "Yes... I believe it was." Terry blinked profusely, and the alien's features turned grim. "What is wrong?"

"Johnny says… to finish what you started…." She looked up sharply, eyes wide. The grey being stood up abruptly, his features grave and shocked. "He knew."

* * *

Into the streets a trouble man walked, away form the world, into the alleys, hiding in the bowls of the Earth. He knew the war, he knew the fight, but found that he was too complexed to face the truth of his life.

* * *

"_Mom? Mom, I'm home! Dib?" A young man scratched the back of his head. He rested a pile of thick books unto the table, and glanced at the calendar. It read January seventh, nineteen-ninety four, a time and address scrawled over it in ink. He sighed, and looked at a note left on the fridge. His eyes scanned it – 'Gone to Gaz's checkup. Casserole in fridge, as well as your slushy. Love mom.' He ran a hand through his hair and opened the fridge, tapping his foot as he rummaged._

_Suddenly, he heard a noise. He craned his head into the living room. "Dad?" he asked. He frowned, and shouted "Dib?" His mother wouldn't leave Dib, a mere toddler alone at home for two hours… would she? Of course not, but he heard the sound again. "Dad, seriously, this isn't funny." He muttered, turning back to the fridge._

_The sound tuned again - a screeching sound, like chalk on a blackboard._

_He rose, growing anxious. His father shouldn't have been home for at least four more hours, and was sensitive to such noise, anyhow. Could there be a burglar? He carefully slid his keys into his pocket and strode though the house, following the noise. "Hello?"_

_He stopped in front of the door to the lab. The sound continued. Technically, he knew well that he wasn't supposed to enter without his father's consent… yet… he reasoned he was an adult, and so he was fully able to enter any room in his house._

_So he entered the labs, and followed the sound. It led him to the far back of the lab, where he felt a peculiar chill that set unease over him. His hands grew clammy as he stared at an ajar door, the locks of which were simply snapped in two. It was an entrance that was usually bolted shut. He entered cautiously, and found himself in a room scattered with paperwork._

_A door at the end of this room caught his attention, as it seemed to leak sin itself. He stepped forward, slowly, foot at a time._

_He grasped the broken knob, and pushed the access open._

_A shriek of terror filled the empty house._

* * *

Terry watched as Cheek's face faded before hers, his goofy version of her smile stretched across his features. She resisted feeling loathing towards him… it wasn't his fault. None of this was his fault… and yet it was. His people had created Dib without thinking of the consequences, and had ruined countless numbers of lives. She felt hostility towards this race that she now knew as the Viljthas, and towards Membrane as well. Somehow, the fact that they had supplied her with an amazing companion seemed diminished beside the fact that they had created a monster that could destroy all life on Earth.

But she struggled to show a mild expression as her vision blotted, but she saw the confusion and hurt cross his disappearing face, and knew she had failed. Guilt filled her, but so did the sense that some form of justice had been served, although she knew it hadn't. She pitied Cheek sparingly before her thoughts blotched over as well.

Gaz watched as Zim pulled on a long maroon coat with many tiny gold bars about an inch long each trailing either side of the unbuttoned center. A hole in the bag comfortably stretched around his PAK, and then folded under it, allowing the metal device to protrude as usual. He shoved a few weapons into the inner pockets, and beginning at the base, lessened the distance between the bars. They snapped together in a magnetic fashion, and he did this at very high speeds. His antenna lay across the back of his head as he concentrated on using his mechanical legs to work on a few data chips on a bench behind him.

"Why are you even going? You hate Earth." She said, reclining deeply into his chair, which was oddly curved and overly-plush, yet most comfortable. He didn't even glance at her as he replied.

"Because it is the duty of Zim to destroy Earth – not Dib."

"Please, if that were the reason, you wouldn't have tampered with that hamster when we were kids."

"Oh yes… I wonder what ever happened to Pepe." Zim said distantly.

Somewhere in Tokyo, a giant mutant hamster cutely devoured a museum.

The Irken continued to work, and the teenage girl beside him grew impatient. "Well, I think it's a dumb idea. Who knows – maybe crazy Dib will hate you more than he did when he was partially sane."

"Are you worried?" he took a moment to tease, glancing over his shoulder. Her cheeks became slightly pink, and she wrestled her reaction down.

"No. I'm just saying it's a stupid idea."

"Well, I appreciate your concern, but I am of Irken blood, and will be victor over the Dib." He said coolly, gazing down at his work, fully knowing that behind him the scary little girl was becoming more and more abashed.

"I am not worried about you, you dweeb. I'm just trying to lower your self esteem, but I guess you're too much of an idiot to be able to understand that." She said sharply, managing finally to hide her embarrassment. He smirked, an antenna cocking.

"Whatever you say, human. Whatever you say."

* * *

"Johnny!" Terry shouted. Anger contorted her face as she looked around. "Johnny, this isn't funny! I need to know what the heck is going on! Johnny!" She sighed, and staggered wearily back down to the basement.

It was useless – she had been searching the house for a while, but it seemed that the homicidal maniac had managed to flee in her time aboard the alien craft. She kicked a box moodily, grinding her teeth as she wriggled out of the slob clothing she was garbed in and into her suit of armor. Furiously, she swung her gun against the wall then slunk against it herself.

The whole ordeal was a puzzle – one that she was losing pieces to. 'I should have probed him farther.' She thought, reluctantly pulling her helmet over her head, and picked her gun up once more, swinging it over her shoulder. She meandered about the house, which was dimming as afternoon slunk into evening. She trotted to a flight of steps, and began the tedious journey upwards. She had gone up three flights when she heard a rattling sound. She was about to call for Johnny when she heard associated snarling. Uneasily, she froze in place, attempting to avoid breathing.

She had to find another way out.

This became a difficult task, though, as she heard the sound of stairs being clambered down hastily. She gasped, and turned back to run downstairs. He heart hammered against her chest, as she had no idea where she was going. The fret wasn't relevant, though, as the sound of dashing became closer and closer. Soon, she could see a shadow slinking after her own. She sped faster, legs aching with the nearly impossible requirement set upon them.

She felt a cruel grasp about her arms, tackling her down. She panicked as they tumbled down the stairs, and was disoriented by the time she managed to come to a halt at the bottom, her back impacting sharply with the ground. The young woman fearfully raised her gaze into cold white eyes as she felt weight pin her down, cold breath against her own. "Dib, stop. You don't want to do this." She stammered, watching as his back began sparking mysterious blue energy. "Dib…."

She raised her gun as high as she could pinned under him, hand shaking, and pulled the trigger. The beast was distracted long enough for her to roll away from him, and she didn't dare to glance back as she raced up the stairs. He followed suit, hardly noticing the trail of deep crimson his leg left behind.

She felt one of his fists grasp her ankles, and her mind nearly exploded in frantic attempts to find a solution. Daringly, she allowed herself to fall back, and sprung off his head. While he tumbled down, she gasped, reaching upwards. She managed to reach the ground, and quickly stumble up. She then heard scattering above her, and her head jerked up. Two white eyes stared her down, a figure clinging from the ceiling.

She bolted, and was chased all about the madhouse. She felt trapped, as if she were lost in a house of mirrors, where every exit was but a reflection of the true one. Panting, Terry swerved against a wall, cornered. She waited with anticipation of death, scared. But Dib no longer seemed interested in her.

He crouched, staring behind her. She suddenly heard a collection of whispers, a sea of words all being uttered at once, growing steadily in intensity. The green-haired girl allowed her gaze to follow his, and to her horrors, she saw a scene she had seen during a dim summer. The same scene she had written about in her journal. The same scene she dreaded.

A wall, the color of a wilted rose, stood behind her, having been painted over and over and over….

She felt sick, and stumbled back, watching as Dib stepped towards it. The voices continued to grow louder, one particularly strong. She heard it calling to this creature, without words it howled for this beast. He reached out to claw at it, but crumpled to the ground with a horrid shriek the moment the tip of his claw came in contact with the… paint...

Terry took no chances, and dashed away, knowing that the monster would be again hot on her trail in little to no time. She managed to reach the front door, thrusting it open. She made a wild leap towards freedom, hands groping for the over-grown weeds in the yard.

But all she felt was a jerk on her ankle, and grunted as she was tossed across the floor. She took no time complaining, though, and stumbled upwards, back into the bowels of the house. She didn't bother climbing down the stairs.

Instead, she flung herself into the darkness, falling. She tumbled down what she didn't pass over, and jumped down the next flight as well. 'There has to be a way out.' He head screamed, and she continued tumbling down the steps, not bothering to count them or even ponder when she had passed a flight. She could hear venomous panting behind her, coming closer.

Gravity finished its work several minutes later, and he watched in horror as her nightmare approached her slowly, twisted grin flashing at her. The blood in her veins throbbed, and some leaked out of her mouth as well as the world span about her. Perhaps… if she had just had more time before this moment… she slowly, shakily reached down to her belt, and pried loose a gun, raising it so it pointed between the creature's eyes.

Her cheeks moistened as she closed her eyes, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

But suddenly, her target was pushed aside. Terry's eyes snapped open, and she watched as something reflective battled with this monster. The electricity that the being once known as Dib produced began flickering, the only light source disappearing. She listened to grunts, and then, heard a horrible, deafening shriek, and footsteps trailing back up the stairs.

She stared up into the darkness, her head filling with a migraine as the blood continued to leak from her mouth. She felt herself being pulled up, her form being hugged close to something soft. A light turned on, and she closed her eyes, momentarily blinded. But she slowly opened them, although they felt heavy, and glanced up into a shadowed face. Arms wrapped around her back, supporting her in a near sitting position against this figure as he or she examined the bruises on her forehead.

"Puzzle. It's a puzzle. Voice in the wall… wants… the first Dib." She said, realizing for the first time how difficult it was to breathe. It felt as if something were leaking into her lungs, filling her throat.

"Silence. Do not speak." A voice said urgently, and lifted her. She felt her eyelids growing heavy, her limbs limp.

"I'm dying?" she asked, scared as she felt the cold begin to seep beneath her skin. She felt the figure squeeze her tight. She had no energy or will for tears as her muscles slackened, and merely attempted to focus on the light at the end of the staircase. Her fingers loosened their grip, dropping her gun on the ground. She felt the chill creep around her bones as she seemed to separate from her body.

"Not yet! Keep fighting it. We're almost there!" the voice was barely convincing, and seemed miles away. She breathed shallowly, feeling her own heart slow somewhere far away from her. She struggled to hang on, but the darkness lulled her closer and closer. "Almost!"

She blinked heavily, watching as the room became darker, and finally, her vision blacked.

Everything became cold.


	12. Revived

A hunched brute atop a roof whipped at its bleeding chest feebly. Its white eyes stared blindly at the ground as its palm cleared its skin of oozing red fluids. Blue sparks radiated about its free hand, and it snarled loudly, growling lowly.

Squee kicked his feet as he stared at the mattress. He felt quite childish, sitting on his old bed. He reflected solemnly upon his life, and sighed a bit. "Well… I suppose it hasn't been all bad." He said, and smirked. "After all, at least nobody has broken in recently."

His sentence was ruined as seconds later, he heard a scream of "I demand to use your house!"

* * *

Gaz stared at the computer at the two tall beings before her. "Eh, I'd go with the lasers, honestly. You can't hurt anyone with smoke."

"Unless it was toxic smoke!"

"True… but that's way less personal." Gaz replied to the Purple one, and the Red one snickered.

"See, everyone loves lasers."

"Yeah… well… I bet everyone loves nachos better than pretzels!"

"Oh, you're on!"

Gaz leaned back, watching the two bicker. They entertained her much in this fashion, as it seemed, as rulers, they had nothing to do but squish their rears against the seats of thrones all day long. Poor butts probably hadn't had proper oxygen in a week….

They had begun their conversations shortly after Zim had left a week previously, as they had called pondering what the invader had been going to say before Terry and Gaz demanded entrance to the base. From there, they began arguments over several issues and philosophies, wasting time. Gaz found it nearly as entertaining as her Game Slave.

Leaning back, she suddenly heard the phone ring. The Irken rulers paused their bickering, glancing curiously. She raised an eyebrow. "That's weird. I thought the movie rental guys would be scared off by now." She glanced at the leaders. "I swear, if you two are behind this, I will rip your organs through your nostrils."

Purple cringed, and she cut the transmission.

She plodded to the phone, and picked it up. "Hello?" a timid voice asked.

"What?" she said coldly, making sure the iciness of her breath managed to miraculously travel through the phone-line.

"T-this is Gaz, right?"

"Yeah, and? Get to the point."

"A friend of yours is at my house. He needs you to come pick him up."

Gaz rolled her eyes, and massaged her temples in irritation. "Does he want me to bring his ship or his psycho robot?"

"Uh… let me go ask. Hold on." There was a rummaging noise, and then footsteps. She could hear voices in the background. "He says to chain the robot to the tree and take the… Voot."

"Address?"

Gaz scrawled on a sheet of paper as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. When done, she hung up without formal adieu, and grasping a wire, searched for Gir.

* * *

A young woman with violet hair walked straight through the door without even a warning, and took a seat at the kitchen table, waiting. A boy peered shyly around the corner, and entered. "Uh…."

"Where is he?" Gaz demanded impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground. She had thought that it was made clear that she didn't want to be involved with the rescue of whatever was left of Dib. The boy shuffled nervously under her intense gaze.

"In the living room." He said lowly, and Gaz stood. Her gold eyes pierced about the room, fists flexing, and she began to walk past him. He grasped her arm. "Wait, no, you can't go in there!"

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "Are you stupid?"

"No, I mean… you have to… be really calm when going in there. Really calm." He said uneasily.

"Why's that?"

"Uh… there's a delicate situation on the border of failure." Gaz brushed past him, and he clenched his teeth nervously. "Squee…." The young woman stepped into the room, scanning each inch of it. Her eyes rested on the couch, and they widened slightly.

Zim sat on the piece of furniture, wires foaming from his PAK and into the neck of a pale body. A slow tick continuously sounded from the machinery of the Irken. The figure he held was small and limp, lips a horridly ghastly light pink color, eyes shut. Zim himself had his eyes closed, chest rising and falling at even intervals.

"Is he asleep?" she asked the boy.

"No… he says he's conserving energy so he can power both bodies."

Gaz's gaze drifted down. Zim held Terry close, two of his fingers resting on the girl's forehead. "How long have they been here?"

"About a week."

She stepped forward, leaning down before Zim. "Zim." She hissed, snapping her fingers. He opened his eyes, and relief stretched across his features. Gaz glanced down at Terry, "Sure are cuddly, aren't you?"

"Fool, if my vital wires could extend any farther, I would not choose such short contact. But as they can't… what, would you rather the human be dead?" he asked sharply, and she glanced Terry over, hardly listening at this point. She began pulling at a wire and Zim's eyes opened wide. "What are you doing?"

"We can't get her home this way – too fragile."

"So you delete her existence?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. He was so thick. "Zim… just trust me. Just take all the wires out, ok, one by one, manually."

"But that would be extremely painful on her end."

"Exactly." Zim gaped at her, and she growled. "Zim, just trust me and do as I say! Otherwise, you can sit here with a corpse on your lap for the rest of eternity!"

* * *

Distant – floating somewhere distant. Vague feeling – somehow grounded to the physical by a strained thin thread of life. Drifting was what was felt, dark was all that was seen, nothing was heard, nothing was smelled.

Suddenly, a nagging from the distant body near the spine – the next wave was even more obnoxious. Somehow, the obnoxious became more tedious to endure, and numbness faded away. A pinch to a poke to a blow – the level of sensitivity slowly rose.

Suddenly, searing pain. It seemed to travel throughout the whole body, drawing her back. The dark became gray, became speckled. Irritation became pain. Finally, she felt a form against hers. She felt her hand, piercing with ache. She twitched, and heard a sharp intake of breath, the surface her head was rested on rose.

Finally, she screamed. But it was muffled by a tight hug, a hand resting on her neck rubbing back and forth.

Terry grasped the three prongs in her own and groaned. She opened her eyes and saw maroon and gold staring back at her.

"I'm not dead…." She said hoarsely, but found her vision fading.

This time, though, once her eyes were closed, she could still feel the warmth of Zim's chest beneath her cheek... but then it began to fade...

* * *

Gaz's eyes widened as she watched Terry's head fall limp. Zim shook the girl gently, placing his fingers across an artery in her neck. Squee fidgeted, playing nervously with her fingers. "We're losing her, plug in that last wire!" Gaz shouted.

"But you said-"

"Forget what I said! We'll manage. Plug it in!" Zim's pack released the cord, and it traced back into the girl's neck. Gaz leaned over them, and felt Terry's forehead. "Do you think you could pick her up?"

He straddled the girls arms around his neck, then lifted her with ease, wincing as the cord on his back tugged. Gaz helped him steady himself, and escorted him to the door. She glanced over her shoulder. "Thanks, kid."

"Uh…." Squee said, and watched as the door slammed in his face, his guests seemingly leaving as soon as they had arrived.

* * *

Tick, tick, tick – this was the simple melody played over and over. Tick, tick, tick – there was a subtle twitch. Tick, tick, tick – fingers curled gingerly. Tick, tick, tick – eyes opened, a nauseating feeling taking over. Tick, tick, tick – sweat trickled down, down, down….

Terry curled closer to her support, eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she didn't have any idea of who she was, or why she was existent. This information flood in soon enough, though, and she cringed at the memoirs. She instead focused on where she was.

She noticed that her fingers were curled about a maroon cloth, and as she lowered her eyes, saw that this same material was filled and wrapped around her back, holding her close to its main. It radiated heat, which felt good against her shivering flesh and goose bumps. She then gazed upwards, and her eyes transfixed upon closed lids made of green skin, black antennas lowered against the back of the head as a chest heaved up and down.

Her eyes rolled lazily to the other side of the ship cramped tiny ship, and she stared at a young girl at the controls, glaring into the dark. She groggily made a noise to catch the other's attention, and Gaz's head snapped in shock. Terry gestured up, and shrugged, questioning Zim's resting. Zim never slept… to her knowledge.

'Energy.' Gaz mouthed back, and pointed to the controls before returning her full concentration to the scenery about the ship. It was only then that Terry noted a cable wiring from her neck to Zim's back.

She glanced about with a frown, and uneasily attempted to pluck it out, but failed each try. So, she leaned her head against his chest, languidly listening to his heart thump up and down within it. She attempted to sit up, but strong arms clutched her tight, drawing small circles upon her shoulders. Her cheek was pressed awkwardly against him, and she felt her nerves dance a bit. Quietly, she poked him.

He stirred, glancing about, then down. His alert face morphed into a relieved smile as he saw her green eyes staring up at him in confusion, and he drew her closer, releasing a relieved sigh.

"Z-Zi- what the heck is going on?" she stammered, as the last person she would expect any affection from was the alien she was now curled up in the lap of. Well… besides perhaps Gaz. She would have moved, but there was nowhere else to go within the tiny ship

"We believed for sure that you would be dead within the few remaining hours, you insane little cow moose." He said, his voice cracking. His tone was that which one would expect him to use when talking to Minimoose. Terry batted her eyes, still disoriented.

"Um…." She said, wiggling in his grip. Finally, she simply gave up, allowing herself to be hugged. With a sigh, she said "I'm never going to let you live this down."

* * *

Two weeks – that was how long Zim, who now hid any sensitivity from her and frequently denied ever showing her any, had said she needed to stay in bed. But as she glared out at the stars, she hardly agreed. They twinkled like gleaming shards of glass against black satin. Or, she thought in remorse, like the sparkles Dib's coat had been sprinkled in her fourth day of knowing him.

She remembered it fondly – she was working diligently at the lunch table on completing her collage for a history project when he sat down. They had chatted sparingly, as she was distracted by her work. But at some point, she lifted the paper and blew the excess glitter off. It had flown all about him. She had laughed, and after showing his irritation at being sparkly, Dib chuckled as well. The rest of the day, he had gone on shining like the night sky.

She heard footsteps behind her, and turned about sharply. A purple-haired girl stood beside her, gazing out at the horizon. "You're not supposed to be up here, you know."

"Well, even if I listened to everything Zim said, the world still wouldn't be a better place, now would it?" Terry replied, leaning against the window pane. They were in the attic, safely enclosed within the base, yet still very vulnerable. She stared gloomily out the glass. "What happened Gaz?"

"What do you mean 'what happened'?"

"Where'd Dib go?"

Gaz sighed heavily, sitting on a box. "I don't see why you worry about it so much. He'll end up fine again in the end – he always does."

Terry turned around, frowning. "Well, that isn't guaranteed, is it?" she muttered, and leaned into the wall, the two sunk in the dark. "Even if it is, I still have to save him to make that happen."

"Whatever." Gaz uttered, staring out the window. Terry breathed heavily.

"I don't think I'll be able to stick around for two whole weeks."

"If you go, what's he going to do – blast you with a laser?" Terry smirked at Gaz's comment, and shrugged. "Honestly, just do what you want."

"You really think I should?"

"If you think you can, go for it. Just don't whine if you end up shredded to pieces."

Terry marveled at the night sky once more, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, and nodded. "Yeah, I think I could go for it."

She began to walk towards the elevator when she heard a cry of "Wait!" She turned around, to view Gaz, staring at the ground, bangs falling before her eyes. "I'm coming with you."

So, grabbing easily-accessible supplies, they set out, avoiding detection from Zim.

* * *

Two girls and one flashlight – this is what the hobo man saw as he reclined against his box, taking a swig from his canteen of gin. His fingers skimmed the ground, and he rose then to scratch his pot-belly. Two little girls out alone late at night – didn't they realize how dangerous the streets were? He scratched his rugged chin, and squinted. Wait… he had seen one of these girls before. Staggering to his feet and hunching his shoulders under his big blue coat, he swaggered after them. They seemed to notice his presence, and quickened their pace, glancing over their shoulders.

"Wait… wait!" he called, "Wait, Tissy… Tany… oh, what did I name you?" The green-haired shined the light at him, dread crossing her face, and pulled the other along. "Wait, don't go, honey!"

"Go away!" the girl shouted over her shoulder, breaking into a sprint.

"Awe, honey, come back to daddy!" He belched after him, and took yet another swig, stumbling in his attempt to stand upright. "Come to papa!" He took yet another gulp, and chased after them.

Gaz worked to keep up with Terry, uneasily watching her face form into panic. "What's going on, Terry?"

"Three alleys up, we take a right." The girl panted, "After a few feet, there will be a split. We'll take the right again and there will be a thin entrance that's hardly noticeable. Make sure to follow me exactly."

"Uh…."

So the two dashed on, sliding into an alleyway at the appropriate time, but the man still remained on their heels. Terry grasped Gaz's hand, and they slipped through the second alley. Then, finally, Terry made a sharp turn and seemingly disappeared into flat wall, but as Gaz was jerked to follow, she saw a hardly noticeable path that curved at a sharp angle to hide the passage. A light up ahead glowed subtly, and the sound of dogs barking broke the night air. Gaz grew very uneasy.

"Big Bubba!" Terry suddenly shouted, and Gaz found herself standing before a motley ring of homeless men, dogs on make-shift leashes wildly yapping. A big hobo, with a grey coat, grinned under a large beard, rubbing his fat.

"Hey, it's Tiny!" another shouted, and Terry ducked behind them as the first, more dangerous hobo entered the passage, heaving.

Big Bubba stood, scrutinizing the man. "Darrell."

"Bubba." They stared each other down, and Gaz watched the scene in shock. Terry cowered behind Bubba, who wrapped a protective arm about her.

"Now you done been told to leave this child alone, by court and everybody else around! It's been six years – leave her alone."

"Ah, honey, come back to daddy." Darrell hiccupped, reeking of alcohol. He spread his arms wide. "I promise I won't hit you no more!"

Terry narrowed her eyes deeply, backing away. Bubba took a step forward, his grimy gloved fists curling. "Darrell." He growled. Terry laid a hand on the homeless man's forearm, and stepped forward, grinding her teeth. She approached the pathetic man, stopping two feet away from him, piercing her gaze at him. Gaz watched as Terry produced one of Zim's handguns from her pockets, raising it to aim between the man's eyeballs. "Go away." She hissed, accenting each word.

"Awe sweaty…."

"Go, or I'll shoot your damn brains out of your head!"

The man shook his head, stepping forward, beginning to say something, but Terry interrupted him by cocking the gun. He halted, and grunted dejectedly. "Honestly, to your own-"

"Go!"

The hobo sized her up, but noticing the menacing look from Bubba, turned slowly, trudging away. "You'll be sorry, honey! Kicking your ole' man like this when he's down. One day, the guilt will catch up to you, and you'll be sorry!"

Gaz watched as Terry kept her gun raised until the footsteps wore away, then carefully disengaged the weapon, storing it away. She was scooped up by the big man with the oversized beard, who hugged her tight. "Ooh, I'm so proud of you, Tiny! Yeah finally got your guts back!" The other homeless men cheered, and Terry smirked sheepishly down at Gaz, shrugging.

Gaz only raised an eyebrow. "Will someone tell me what just happened?"

* * *

_A little girl with blood shot eyes watched from one of the narrow strips in the closet door, listening._

"_We have no money because of you!" A woman screamed, pointing accusingly. Her long blonde hair fell loosely about her shoulders, her brown eyes gleaming with fire. These eyes watched as the man grumbled, and pulled off his belt. "I don't care, take it to me! This is ending, now!"_

"_You wouldn't survive one day without me!" the man gurgled, lunging. His wife managed to evade his leap, and she grabbed the telephone cord. "I swear, if you come near me, I'll-"_

_She didn't have time to finish her sentence, as he rammed her into the wall, elbowing her forehead. She crumpled to the ground, falling unconscious, and he lashed at her with his belt, kicking her._

_Small hands wrapped around knees, and a quiet squeak was released, trembling. She knew he would find her as he rummaged through the rooms and cabinets of their trailer, suckling beer bottles as he found them. She pulled away from the crack as a shadow approached, and breathing heavy, pushed farther into the wall, attempting to hide herself amongst the clothes and boxes. The light that had filled in the cracks in the closet door diminished, and then all at once beamed, as the door was pried open. She held her breath, holding her blanket close._

_Alas, this was no use as he grasped her ankle, pulling her from the closet. "Honey, why are you hiding?" he asked with acid. She only trembled, beading sweat, too scared to scream. "Don't you love daddy? Don't you want to be with daddy forever?" She didn't respond, chest shaking. "Well?" he yelled, turning pink-faced. She began to hyperventilate as she was thrust to the ground. "You don't love me either, do you? Your hoes, the both of you, hoes! Nasty filthy scum of the earth-"he continued to rave, towering over her with his belt. She fought to scramble away, but to no avail._

_The whip came down hard, ripping through tender flesh. But this was abandoned quickly, as bare knuckles branded skin. Screams pierced the air._

_In the West Yellow trailer park, this was the home neighbors avoided, the home they heard shrieks from in the dead of night. This was the home of which a child was unjustly brought into a cruel world by party addicts, of which only one truly sobered many years later. This was the home upon which neither sweet Luna nor generous sol ever shined upon. This was the home of the child with the welts on her frail body, whose closed smelled of marijuana from her house, whose eyes were swollen from her river of tears, whose smile was crooked from her pain._

_This child would never see the light until many, many years later._

* * *

Gaz blinked. Terry had just spilled out a large sliver of her life. The first years of it were spent being physically abused by her biological father – who they had previously encountered. Then, after a lengthy trial, her mother divorced him and placed a restraining order over him. She and Terry had been dependent on his salary, though, and so became homeless once they were set unto the streets. This was how Terry had met this band of hobos, who were willing to lend a hand enough to not only help them with necessities, but also saved Terry from the shell she had hidden herself in. Big Bubba, in particular, had become a grandfather-like figure to Terry. Eventually, two years after the restrain was set, Terry's mother managed to find a boyfriend, so they bid the hobos farewell – but not permanently. They went on and off as hobos, until finally, Terry's mom found a stable job with a decent salary at a military base. The tale ended there.

Gaz watched as Terry was offered a swig of brandy, and she took it without thinking twice. "Aren't you… under aged?"

Terry glanced at the canteen, then back at Gaz. "Oh… I forgot."

"How do you forget something like that?"

Terry shrugged. "I don't know – I grew up on the stuff." She stared at the bottle, swirling its contents. "Darrell was an alcoholic, so I didn't know any better. Then once on the streets…." She glanced over to Gaz, "You take what you can." She held up the bottle, offering it to her. Gaz shook her head, and Terry took a small sip before passing the canteen back. She shared with these men without hesitation, despite their dirty faces and fingers, as if they were family. It caused Gaz to find a certain amount of respect for her. "The key is not to drink too much."

The two sat alone near the back of the ring, a bit away from the fire where the men told stories and tales, that while intriguing, would be distracting to the conversation at hand. A couple seemed drunk, but the others about them were careful to keep them stable. "Yeah, I could see you as a hobo."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or and insult." Terry said frankly, crossing her legs.

"Shouldn't we be going?" Gaz asked, glancing around.

"Why? We're in the perfect spot to look for Johnny if he's out on the streets. People will walk in and out all night. Other people will hear the news, and they'll come, too. If Johnny hasn't jumped a train yet, he'll probably be here at some point tonight." Terry stood, gesturing, and joined the circle of men and a few women, as Bubba sat central, waving his arms as he told a surely epic fantasy.

Gaz followed, eyeing the hobos tentatively. They hid within a clump, and Terry leaned forward. Gaz realized that these were probably the stories the girl had grown up on. While she herself had grown up on 'Hansel and Gretel' and 'Little Red Riding Hood', Terry knew stories of shadows lurking in alleys, lost children finding their parents again, giant rats creeping through the subways – most supposedly firsthand accounts, or stories about other hobos.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a thin figure lurk into the group, glancing around curiously. He sat at the end of the ring, and struck up a conversation with another man. Gaz elbowed Terry, who glanced over. "Right on cue." She commented.

"Yeah." Terry agreed, beginning to stand, but Gaz stopped her.

"Let me handle this." Gaz stood, brushing herself off, and the man immediately noticed her. Horror spread across his features, and turned pale as a ghost. Terry slunk after Gaz, listening.

"M-mom?" Johnny stuttered, and Gaz scoffed. Terry blinked, leaning forward, hiding behind two rather chubby homeless men.

"Yeah, tard, right – I came back to life and I'm here to haunt you." He nearly winced up at her, cringing, and she rolled her eyes. "It's Gaz, you idiot."

"Holy shit!" he stood up, backing away, hands trembling. He was about to dash away, when Terry slid before the entrance, blocking it off. She glared up at him.

"We need to talk."

* * *

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Johnny said again for the thousandth time that night. They sat in the main alley, away from the cheerful campfire, Terry and Gaz having managed to trap him against a wall after his attempt to flee. His voice, though, was becoming less and less sure of itself.

"Yes you do!" Gaz snapped, "I know you do!"

"I don't, damn it! Leave me the hell alone!" His fingers itched towards his boots, but the knives there were broken and bloodied already, useless.

"Yes you do!"

Terry sighed audibly, sitting down. "Maybe he doesn't, Gaz." She muttered, rubbing at her temples.

"I know he does." Gaz muttered, and Johnny growled, making to swipe at her, but she caught his wrist. "Do that and I'll twist it like a pretzel." She threatened, squeezing his arm hard. The green-haired teen below seemed to become more and more distress over the lack of information. "Johnny, tell me now!"

"No."

"God damn you, Johnny, I know it was you her killed her already!" Terry's head lifted, and she glanced from one to the other. Johnny's face contorted into hurt and pain at the memory, and he leaned his head against the back of the wall.

"I didn't…."

"Kill who?" Terry asked sharply.

Neither paid attention to her, as Gaz grasped the front of his shirt. "It's been years, okay? I've known for years. I remember that far. If you want any justice done for her, you'll tell us what happened. I know you know why Dib is doing this."

"How should I know?"

"Because you acted the exact same way when you did it!"

Johnny closed his eyes tight, a migraine growing. He clutched his head, squeezing his eyes. "Just shut up."

"No. Or did you kill her out of coldness? Did you hate her that much, Johnny? Did you truly loathe the fact that she assisted in the creations that cost you your normal life?"

"No!"

"Then what happened?"

"It was the clone!" Johnny slumped down the side of the wall. Terry watched as he slid to the ground, burying his head in his knees, racking. "God, I knew this would happen…." He muttered sorely.

* * *

_Gaz sat from her high-chair, watching as her mother put away groceries. "I wan' dinner…."she persisted, and glared down at her brother, who was coloring in a Greek mythology activity book. "I wan' purpa!" she whined, and Dib absent-mindedly passed her the pink crayon. She squinted then chucked it at his head. "I wan' purpa!"_

"_Owe!" three year old Dib yelped, and glared up. "Mom, Gaz is throwing things at me again!"_

"_I'm busy right now, ok Dib? Calm down Gaz." She said hurriedly, attempting to find a suitable snack while filing away the recently bought food at the same time._

"_Owe! Mom!"_

"_Dibbers!" she mimicked his whining voice, and he made an adorable little face of irritation, mind way ahead of his years. "Uh… Johnny!" she yelled, "Where are you? Come help with the groceries!" She shook her head as a full minute rolled by without even a response. "I swear…."_

"_Johnny!" Dib yelled, and yelped as he was kicked by Gaz._

"_Nny!" she yelled. She had major jealousy issues when it came to their older sibling, who was in and out stocking up on college classes. She strived for his attention, and behaved only while he was about, although her sins were minor, usually grumpy complaints. "Nny!"_

"_Maybe he's in the bathroom." Dib suggested, and suddenly, a low growl erupted from nowhere. Membrane's wife looked up, glancing about._

"_Johnny?" she asked, frown knitting across her brow. Another low growl - the woman stepped forward. Gaz took the opportunity to lean down and grab the purple crayon, drawing wiggly circles on the tray of her high-chair._

_The sound silenced, and the woman's eyes shifted. But all was peaceful. "Must have been a dog outside." she mumbled. After a few minutes, she pulled up a chair beside Dib, helping him color the Minotaur, although still on the edge. Dib, though, forgot as he babbled on about how many toys the nursery of the clinic had Gaz, though, was more sour to the mention of the clinic, as she had been the one to get shots. The woman ruffled her boy's hair as he described how he had managed to spell camel with the blocks, then kissed Gaz on top of the head as she said how much her 'booboos' still hurt. "Awe, Gaz, they'll feel better soon. You'll see, sweaty. No booboo lasts forever."_

_Out of nowhere, another growl, but louder than the previous – the mother stood, eyes sharp, walking about the side of the kitchen._

"_He sounds like a bear." Dib giggled, but watched as their mother tensed, and his humor fell away. "Mom?"_

_Suddenly, a flash of black, a scream, and his mother was on the floor, crimson flying into the air as her body was shredded to pieces. Dib didn't know how to react, his eyes growing wide as saucers, clutching his crayon tightly. The hunched figure on top of his mother continued to savagely use its teeth to shake her limp neck._

_Gaz's eyes glazed over and she began screaming. Dib pulled his sister out of her chair, and hurried her to the other side of the room._

_Long claws ran down this beast's fingers, tongue lapping up blood, white eyes staring blindly. Gaz took her brothers hand, squeezing it so tight that it paled. Dib's breathing became rattled and unsteady, as fat tears rolled down his face. There was no way out – now way around this monster._

_Finally, on all fours, it gracefully sat away from the corpse. Dib shielded his sister's eyes, but she peered over his hand, seeing the carcass, as the monster licker his claws hungrily. She glanced up at Dib – his coffee eyes etched the scene deeply, heart pumping fast._

"_Mommy?" the little boy squeaked. The monster's face lurched up, and Gaz pointed, screaming shrilly._

_White eyes rolled down, dark ones returning, and stared at her. Then the eyes rolled down to the corpse. Horror spread across features as hands were raised, claws reviewed. "Get out of my head!" he screamed, and pulled on his hair, screaming as he collapsed. "Dib, call dad, now!" he yelled hoarsely, his own body seemingly out of control._

_Dib shook his head, stumbling away, scared. But Gaz stepped forward, pulling her chair up to the phone and yanking the cord down. She dialed the numbers clumsily, having watched her mom do so often, and pressed it to her ear. Finally, the dial tone left, and she shuttered. "Daddy – Mommy's dead." She turned to her eldest brother. "He hunged up."_

_The man grasped his forehead, and his eyes began rolling up and down, pupils appearing and disappearing behind his lids as he screams varied between that of a human and that of a beast. "Gaz, talk to me. Tell me all about your day. Every detail." And so, she prattled on to him, and his eyes steadied as he rolled on the floor._

_Dib walked to his mother's shredded corpse, his sobs giving him the hiccups. He collapsed on his knees beside it, shaking it over and over. "Mommy, get up. Mommy... you have to make diner. Don't go… Mommy…." Johnny rolled over, and watched this, his body stilling, and although his claws didn't go away, and he had to dig them into the floor to keep himself stable, he was able to see the damage he had caused. Dib collapsed on top of the mangled cadaver, heaving as his babbling was swallowed by pained cries, tiny fingers clutching remains._

_And Gaz, eyeing them all fearfully, just kept talking and talking and talking…._


	13. Killer's Lament

Terry felt sick to her stomach as Gaz retold the events in vivid detail, reminding her brother about every gruesome detail. "Then dad came home, remember that? He yelled at you about going into the back room, about what you had done, abut what you had unleashed. Remember that? How he took you into his labs and you came back out later just fine? How we had to pry Dib off of the body? Do you remember the funeral you skipped? Now there will be more funerals, more deaths, and more broken spirits. Our stupid brother is out there, and he's suffering, killing people, and only you know the cure." He kept his head buried, hands clutching the side of his head. Gaz kneeled before him, whispering gently "Nny… what really happened?"

He raised his gaze, a struggled breath clambering from his chest.

* * *

_Membrane reminded Johnny of his life as they walked towards the labs, supporting the young man. His goggles were foggy, his grasp shook, but he forced himself to remain concentrated._

_He led Johnny to a table in the chambers of his labs, still prattling, worrying as Johnny again began to lose control. He grabbed a tool, and began shocking Johnny with it, waiting, babbling. He screamed as he was shocked over and over._

_Suddenly, his chest began to swell. A dark red patch appeared, and then from his chest, burrowed a mess of bloody cells, oozing out of him. Membrane reached behind him, grabbing a pair of tongs, and grasped the parasite, which wormed about as it rebelled._

_He took the nearest vial, emptied the contents unto the floor, and began packing the cells into it, extracting the mutant. Finally, Johnny gasped as a large snap pierced the womb, and abruptly his limbs dropped, eyes returning to normal. The rest of the being easily slid into the jar without the attachment, but continued to fight for freedom none the less, yet failed miserably. It was a mere mesh of yellow skin and a large pointy mouth pressed against the jar. Membrane motioned for the young man to lean back, which he did, as he sunk his hands into his flesh. It didn't take Johnny long to pass out from pain, as Membrane continued to stitch closed his muscles and skin, and most importantly, heart._

_The squirming creature in the jar was later returned to the backroom, sealed air-tight, and extra sophisticated locks were placed on the door._

_When Johnny awoke, he was an emotional wreck, having just unintentionally killed his mother. His father laid a hand on his shoulder, but couldn't offer anything, as he himself was nearly to the breaking point. So he led his son out of the labs, and to the surface, where both had to work to pull Dib away from the corpse. Dib was willing to fight tooth and nail, but finally Membrane tried a new strategy, and once they managed to pry him into the air, took him, holding him tight, and the little boy simply sobbed into his shoulder._

"_I-I… h-h-hate you J-J-Nny…." He managed to say between sobs, blood crusting on his small hands. Johnny sunk to the floor, staring at the once so beautiful, kind face over his mother. He made to touch her, but didn't have the guts, and so took Gaz, who was still fearfully babbling away at a million miles per hour, and held her tight._

_And finally, Gaz fell silent, but refused to cry. Even as her older brother sobbed into her little plush body, she refused. The memory of her mother's last warm kiss on her forehead was still all to clear, yet still she refused to weep. All she could do was stare at the skull necklace on her mother's limp neck._

Johnny stared up through weary eyes, and sickly leaned into the wall. Gaz nodded, and fingered her brooch. "I still have it." She whispered, allowing him to sadly trace its form. "The chain broke a little while afterward, but I kept this."

Terry stared at the two, lips pursed. She felt like she had intruded on something personal – like she had stolen and read someone's diary. Somehow, her own life seemed to diminish in tragedy, and she felt painfully guilty for any self-pity she had ever conjured. "But what happened to the other Dib?" she whispered, remembering the English-speaking alien's words, "Why did you get kicked out?"

"This is all my fault…."

* * *

"_Dib, hurry up in there!" Johnny called. It had been perhaps half a year since the death of his mother, and while he and Gaz were healing at an expected rate, but Dib was slow to, often spacing out or crying in the middle of the night. The boy had nearly been run over by a car in the driveway by spacing. Nny leaned outside the bathroom door._

_They hadn't told the aliens – yet. Membrane had been sympathetic enough to not only keep this a secret, but also to allow him to stay. But the man's soberness was slipping, the loss of his wife dragging him to the pub every evening._

_Johnny took it upon himself to teach Dib and Gaz everything he knew, as retribution. He often stopped to try and see if perhaps and odd wind ever circled him when he helped Gaz into a sweater, or when coming in during the middle of the night to calm Dib down. None ever came. The woman who had kept such order in his life was gone._

_But he deserved it. He deserved to be alone. He deserved to have to take care of his siblings. He deserved losing the majority of Membrane's trust. He deserved the hateful stare Dib gave him. Certainly, he didn't deserve a pat of the back from a ghost. No matter how much he wanted it._

"_Huh?" Dib's voice finally squeaked from the bathroom._

"_I said hurry up."_

"_Oh…." The sound of the sink turning on was heard, and a few moments later, it was turned off again. Johnny opened the door for his tiny brother, who returned to the windowsill – that was another thing Dib did often. He'd stare out the window for hours at a time. Johnny knew what – who – he was looking for, and pitied him deeply, sorrow and guilt always pressing him into a gloom. "Hey, come on, I'll teach you how to make chicken soup today." Johnny said, and Dib glanced up._

_Dib was an incredibly brilliant child, and could nearly cook a three-course meal flawlessly. And if he weren't so afraid of it, he'd be able to use the small vacuum cleaner as well. Somehow, Johnny felt that his days in the house were limited, and knowing Membrane's poor parenting skills, filled Dib's head with as much knowledge as possible about how to survive. He tried to teach Gaz as well, but she was less interested, having become more and more turned inward._

_Dib took off his glasses, and shook his head. "I don't want to cook today." He gave that spiteful glare, and gazed again out the window. "When's Mom coming home?"_

_Johnny's throat constricted – this was a question Dib asked more and more frequently, and each time, he couldn't answer. He knew Dib understood she was dead. But the little boy couldn't bare the thought. So he did what any child would do and created new laws of nature, and fantasies about encounters, about seeing her on the street or at daycare or out the window. The little boy shoved away the pain with his stories, and his gazing out the window._

"_Dib…." Johnny sighed, and approached the little boy, squatting to his height. He embraced the little one, holding the back of his head. But he looked beyond the child, at the wall, only able to feel the cold sting of regret._

"_Nny, I don't see Mommy on the streets anymore. Or in the library. Or on the playground." Dib hiccupped, clinging to his brother's shirt. "I don't like to live without mommy anymore, Nny. I don't want to live. I want to go be with Mommy."_

_Johnny froze, realizing the danger of this sudden development. He wrapped both arms tightly about the small child's back, pulling him as tight as possible. "No, Mommy's on the playground, Dib. You'll see her tomorrow." He pleaded, but the boy shook his head._

"_No, Mommy isn't there. She's nowhere. I want to be nowhere with her…."_

_Johnny hugged the boy, pressing his nose into his hair, which smelled like crisp cider. "No, Dib. You don't want to be nowhere. Everything's going to be okay, alright?" He picked Dib up, rubbing his back gently._

_Johnny laid his brother unto the couch, who instantly fell asleep. He walked to the phone, dialing in the cell phone number of Membrane, and waited. "Hey, it's Nny. Yeah, hey, we need to get Dib in to see a doctor. No, I'm being serious – I think he's becoming suicidal." He leaned his forearm against the wall, resting his weight against it. "How should I know? Have you been drinking again? You've got to stop! If you haven't noticed, we're dependant on you!" His brows furrowed. "I would get a job if it weren't for the fact that I'm taking care of Gaz and Dib. They're too young to leave home alone! I don't care how smart he is, he isn't stable! He's falling apart, and if you don't stop drinking and find him a therapist, it's just going to get worse. I think I do have a right! I'm the one who keeps up with everything around here! You hardly come home from the bar! Yeah, well, that company isn't going to fund you if you're not sober! Ah, hell, don't talk like that. Where would I go? Who would take care of the kids? No! You can't do this! They're my responsibility! No, wait-"_

_Nny dropped the phone as its dial tone buzzed. He glanced at the couch – Gaz was upstairs taking a nap. "How… how could he kick me out… they need me…." He stammered, nerves rising. His heart plummeted into his stomach. He wasn't to be there when Membrane got home._

_He would have resisted… but he didn't want to take the chance of Gaz or Dib getting hurt. He would have taken them with him, but he had no idea of where he was going. But he knew one way he could ensure their safety one last time. He lifted Dib, and walked to Gaz's room, laying him in her pile of stuffed animals. The boy rolled slightly, and Nny hushed him until he fell asleep again._

_He then climbed downstairs, to a particular door, then down, down, down into the basement. He returned a few minutes later with a jar. From one not knowledgeable of its presence and meaning, it looked like nothing was in it, just an empty jar. But across its top was scrawled "DIB 18 SOUL". Johnny glanced up towards the stairs, but couldn't bear to say farewell, and walked out the door with only this jar in hand. He knew of a peculiar old house that he could store it in, and nobody would ever find it. It was a house with a strange wall that sent odd vibes down peoples' backs. It was a famous Halloween haunted house tourist stop._

_Little did he know that his memory would soon be erased and he would end up living in that house._

_But he wasn't the only one Membrane insisted the aliens take care of. Little Dib was abducted later that night, his memory altered to repress the memory of his mother's death, pushing it to a much easier remembrance of something that happened when he was six as a mere car wreck, and skewered Johnny from his memory as well._

_But in the end, it didn't matter._

* * *

"I don't know how the parasite managed to take him over when so far away from its soul, but it did. And it's all because Membrane couldn't get his shit together." Johnny whipped his tired eyes, and rested his elbows against his knees. Gaz exhaled deeply, and glanced up.

"Thanks Nny." His eyes traveled up to meet hers, and such guilt was scrawled upon his face that she could nearly feel it herself. She stood, giving a shaky nod. "I'm sure…." She trailed off, but Johnny understood her phrase, shaking his head.

"No, Gaz. She'll never forgive me. Not even now that's she's dead. Neither Heaven or hell will take me… nor will she."

_Walls the color of a wilted rose._


	14. The Fight David Saw

Terry stared at the man who walked beside them – the man brandishing a knife, the man whose gaze was always shifting, never trusting. The man whose fingers always rested upon the hilt of a knife. Despite this, though, she felt safe with him – more than she had than only with Gaz before.

It turned out that Gaz had followed for the soul purpose of recruiting his help, and was to disappear once more from the frontline. It made Terry feel slightly betrayed, but at the same time, grateful for the help she had given. So had parted ways, Gaz grasping a pipe on the ground, twirling it has she had returned to the general direction of Zim's base. Her last promise had been that she would make sure that Terry got a hold of the armor-suit again.

So it was only she and Johnny, and not a word had been uttered since they had set off. The man held a vacant expression, hollow, sheltering deep thoughts and emotions. Terry could do nothing more than walk beside him, playing with the bottom of her black shirt, jeans scuffing against the ground as she walked on the hems of them.

"Hey Nny?" she finally mustered, shyly.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you run away?" she asked, looking up at his face, which did not turn to meet her gaze. "I thought you wanted to finish this mess."

"You don't get it, do you?" he asked, repulsion in his voice.

"Get what?"

"This time, there is no zappy thing or siblings to keep him intact. Nobody has ever shown him enough mercy to strengthen him, and with the parasite's apparent ability to conduct electricity, I doubt any tazer would be useful as this point. There is no stabilization. Dib's already gone." He glanced down at the girl, "We've just got to take care of the body."

Terry stopped in her tracks, gazing at him. "But… I managed to bring him back a little once!" she pleaded, her fingers shaking at the news.

"Yeah, but I see he didn't borrow sparing you later on, did he?" the man remarked, noting the ugly bruises painted across her. She glanced away, holding herself.

"There's go to be another way." She said, shivering, "We can do this somehow."

The lanky man shook his head, ushering her along. "We're not saving Dib. We're saving society. Why do you think Gaz isn't involved? Why do you think I rather be home watching black and white cartoons right now?" He watched as dread crossed her features, as she lowered her eyes to the ground.

"He's really gone, then?"

"I just told you."

He watched as she pulled a gun from her belt, hesitantly fingering it. "Then… then let's get this over with…." She mumbled, eyes hidden among her bangs. She stalked ahead, her shoulders trembling, but she had to stop. He languidly caught up with her, and stared sympathetically as he watched her shiver. But no tears fell to the pavement.

No river of tears, no matter how long, could express the grief laid upon her as she realized that her most cherished friend in the world had been dead for a while… that she'd have to finish the last sliver of him still connected to her world.

* * *

"Where do you think we should start looking?" Nny questioned as they plodded on. They had been walking for hours, not a word passed between them. Terry had buried herself in her mind, absent-mindedly stroking the side of the gun.

"God knows. But I'm guessing we'll have figured out by the time we find him, huh?" she muttered, squeezing her palm tightly. Johnny nodded at her response. Remnants of the monster's rampage were etched into the scenery – fires burned, corpses were on the side of the road, and there were deep slash marks across buildings where his claws were drug. They followed this path as if it were a map, though it seemed not to go in any particular direction.

"We need to figure out before he finds us first." Johnny muttered, and halted. Terry sighed, and turned to him. He leaned against the crumbling foundation of a building, resting his head against it. "Let's see… I can't remember much from when the parasite was in control… but I was searching for something, I know that. While I think this is a killing spree, I don't think it's random." He gazed at the small-framed girl across from him, her hair aglow with the fires, creating a gold outline about it. "I think he's looking for somebody." He raised an eyebrow as he face became pale, her expression staring beyond him. "Any ideas?"

"You know how in Frankenstein, the monster kills the creator? It kills the one person who made its life miserable - the person who started it all." Her head whipped upwards. "I bet he's after Membrane."

A smile crossed Johnny's lips, as in his mind, he had already placed this all together. "Bingo." He rested a hand on her trembling shoulder, taking a strong breath of the air. "Smell it, it's the death of civilization – of prejudice and pride. Do you really want to end it so soon? I mean, at some point we'd have to take care of it, but right now?"

Terry glared up at him. "Normally, I would say no, but I'm still on a rescue mission."

"For what?" Nny scoffed, staring down upon her.

She glared upwards, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "There is a little baby who's struggling to find a way into this world, and if I can't save Dib, maybe I can still save it. I don't know how, but I will find a way."

"Why? Maybe it's for the best that it dies too, have you ever thought of that? You may just be bringing another Dib into the world."

Green eyes pierced through him, and she ground her teeth. "Because that baby… to me, its not an experiment or a cell on a Petri dish. It's not the hope to serve my best interest. It's a human being – one I really care about. I already lost Dib, but I will find a way to salvage my baby."

"You're baby?"

She averted her gaze, folding her arms across her chest. The young woman nodded. "Yeah… I decided… before all this… that I'd help take care of the baby somehow. Before all this, I had a thought in my head called 'Aunt Terry'. It's stupid, but it's true. But now, there's no one else for it. All it has left is 'Aunt Terry', but it doesn't needs more than an aunt." Johnny stared, shocked, as her shimmering eyes caught his. "I'll find a way to get that baby in the world, and I'll raise it by myself if I have to. But it's alive in there, and maybe even scared."

"God, Terry, are you stupid or something? It's probably dead by now!"

"If it is, then at least I'll walk away knowing I tried."

Johnny towered above her petite form, running a hand through his hair in distress. "You're one of the stupidest, most ignorant people I've ever met." He lowered his eyes calmly down at her, raising her chin with his finger. A smile crossed his features. "In fact, you're nuts. But… I think your heart is in the right place."

She jerked away, stalking forward on a new route. He followed calmly, breathing in the air of destruction. "So, where are we going?"

"There." She paused, skin glowing in the warmth of flames, and pointed into the sky. Johnny squinted, and saw on of the tallest structures of the city – a long building that jutted upwards into the sky, becoming spindly near the pointed top, a recreation of ancient sculptor's Michelangelo's statue of David overlooking the city with peaceful stone eyes, the only flaw in its build the stone leaf covering its genitals, where as the original statue was stark naked. It was one of the few remaining buildings of the city from before the second industrialization, in which artistic sculptures and intimidating buildings were replaced with moaning ugly skyscrapers. Yet this building still remained, David's ever thoughtful, ponderous gaze upon all of them.

Of course, this was turned into the site of Membrane's gallery of inventions. And Nny found, that if one squinted really hard against the dark dusk, one could see the shadowy form of yet another silhouette a few ledges below the level of David. Although this could have been a trick of his eyes, it made him feeling on the edge none the less, thumbing his knife.

"I need armor." She said stiffly, and turned to him. "Go to Zim's base and get it. Just follow the path Gaz's went off in – you can't miss it - it's a tacky green house with a bunch of laser-shooting lawn gnomes."

"And you're going to do what?"

"I'm going to figure out a way to get up there." She muttered, gazing sharply at him. "Be fast – run."

He gazed up at the tower, then back at her. He lifted his knife to his vision, and then handed it to her. Johnny watched as she looked it over in confusion, her reflection in the blade. "It's got your blood on it. Maybe it'll bring good luck." He noted, pointing to the hilt, where a strain of dried blood resided. "Consider it my way of helping you end this."

He tensed as she slipped her hand in his, lacing her fingers through his own. "Thanks Nny." She whispered, giving his hand a light squeeze before letting go.

* * *

Johnny swung the purple door of the house open, hardly noticing the singe on his clothing. He walked straight past a green dog watching TV, and to the center of the house. "Gaz!" he yelled out, and heard the sound of machinery humming.

But it was not his sister who rose from the floor.

Zim squinted his eyes at the human. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" he yelled. But the fridge opened, and Johnny blinked in confusion as Gaz stepped out of it. She was ahead of the game, holding the armor in her arms. The alien stared, wincing as she passed the bundle to Johnny. "What is going on here?"

"Terry's going to take care of Dib." Gaz said simply, and walked to the trashcan, merely jumping in it as if there was nothing strange about the act. Zim glared at Nny, who simply walked out the door.

"Hey wait – I still don't get it!" he shouted after him.

* * *

Terry crouched on the roof of a building, armor glistening against the starlight. The fire about gave it a bronze hue, and the flames showed in her eyes. She glanced about, clutching the knife Johnny had given her. She reminded herself over and over that her options were either Dib or the world. And as unfair as the world was, she knew that it couldn't be the one to go.

So she shoved the knife between her rows of teeth and flexed her muscles, leaning over the edge of the building. Carefully, she trotted backwards, weary of the gap between the two buildings. She took a deep breath then raced forward. At the last possible second, she leaped from the building, reaching out for the next one. She managed to grasp the ledge, and heart beating harshly, clambered up the side of it. She allowed the knife to fall from her mouth, and glared up, panting.

She would have used an elevator, if it weren't for the fact that many of them were in flames or collapsing. Fire escapes were also risky as well. So, she bit her tongue against the fear and leapt from roof to roof, feet hot with the fire of the floor beneath.

The knight licked her lips, and thrust her body from the building she was presently standing upon unto a window-garden and climbed up the slippery surface of the glass to the next ledge.

It took a very long time to reach the surface of the tower, and careful to take silent breaths, clawed her way upwards unto the structure. The shadowy figure grew closer and closer the higher she climbed, as it seemed to wait, its face pointed towards the main lab complex next door, preparing an attack.

Terry struggled around he opposite side of the building, hoping to surprise the beast, knife in mouth. At some point, her view of the creature disappeared because of her angle, and this caused her to be even more nervous.

One of the guns about her belt, a lose one, managed to find itself free. Although she shouldn't, she couldn't help but watch as it plummeted towards the ground, at some point becoming invisible. She felt nauseated, but Terry continued to clamber upwards. But before she reached the top, a clawed hand lashed out at her face. She screamed, losing some of her grip. The beast appeared over the ledge of the tower, grinning demonically. What it did not expect, though, was for her to grasp its hand, for both of them to plummet downwards to the next flat surface quite a few feet down.

The brute was the first to recover, but Terry was slower, moaning as she clutched her right shoulder. She was quick to stumble up as he approached, though, and raced to the staff entrance quickly, fear thumping in her chest. She locked the door, and listened as the monster spent a moment busting the handle, and took the moment to run up the stairs, right arm flapping limply behind.

She listened as there were loud clangs on the metal staircase besides her own, and she ultimately skipped the rest of that flight of stairs, standing on the safety rod with an amazing feat of a balancing act, and hulled her body unto the next flight of stairs across.

Reaching into her belt, she whipped out a gun, and pointed it downwards, waiting. The enemy swerved around the side of the stairs, and she let loose a round of bullets, the air pierced with the thunder they produced. But this Dib was sturdy, and as the blood pelted his flesh, pinioned her to the ground, snarling.

With a gasp, she felt a long claw drag up the center of her stomach, causing her slight arousal. But the situation was too dire to ponder his actions as she saw those claws begin curving, and as she couldn't reach her guns, she did what she could. Anxiously, she head-butted him, causing his grip to lax, then tore her teeth into his wrist. As he yelped, she clawed at him, kicking and thrusting until she jerked lose.

Once she was free, she tackled him to the ground, bearing her teeth against him as she searched her belt for another gun. It wasn't long before she had a sharp syringe in her hand, stabbing him with it.

He cried out in pain as the fluid, which was designed to burn the spot of impact, caused him terror. She relinquished her bite, and dashed away, knowing he would be quick to recover and would soon follow her.

By the time she managed to reach a hatch leading to the roof, she could see the whites of his eyes blinding staring, and she tumbled out, racing to the stature of David, finding herself condemned. She had thought that she would be able to lure him down, but obviously, the beast was too interested in going up.

She walked backwards as he slowly approached, sickly grin across his face. She found that her back met the cold stone of Davidl, and her breathing grew heavy. If only she had more room to act. The demon climbed up after her, walking towards the stature of David.

Turning, she pulled out her last gun and continued to fire, the fat read beam of a laser illuminating the night. This caused the beast only a mild stumble, and her continued to stalk forward, insane smile enlarging with each step. She panted as he came two, one, half, quarter of a foot away from her. He swatted her gun away, claws digging into her.

She removed her helm, and cast it to the ground, knowing already that she was going to die, knowing that head wound was an easy way to go. But, she still retained the blade, energy lighting her eyes. She would save the child if she had to cut it out of the monster's stomach herself. She fingered the blade as he approached snarling, and brandished the blade before his eyes. He didn't see it of course, but as claws made to scratch her, she yelled "Your coat is sparkly!" The scratch was delayed, as he pulled away with a confused expression. "Don't let them bother you – they're just jerks. Did you know that USOs are unidentified submerged objects?" she ranted, watching his head cock to the side. "I owe it to my best friend."

It crept up slowly, but seemed to have grown immunity to her babbling of his life. She gulped, leaning against David, deeply in its crevices. "Dib, this is Terry. You don't want to do this." His mouth was opening wide to show sharp teeth, and she stumbled further back, feeling his breath on her forehead. "You don't want to hurt anybody, Dib." He continued forward. "Dib."

She cringed as he thrust towards her neck – it was the end.


	15. His Dove

(Go to youtube and look up 'Armas & CJ The Angel – She Died In Paradise (Zilent Rework)', and listen to it while reading this until your ears start bleeding! I command it of you! Or at least listen to the song before or after reading this. It will enrich your mind, for sometimes, music expresses more than words. GO! BE AN OVER ACHEIVER!)

Terry gasped as her neck was bitten into, the spongy material over it filling with blood. Her eyes widened, as she felt it ooze out of the scrap of material the monster had torn away, her pierced flesh revealed. Her hands trembled, and she leaned into David as she began to feel faint.

But she watched as the expression of this creature changed dramatically at the sight of the blood gushing from her, the eyeballs in its sockets rolling down to their correct positions. "Terry?"

She could feel the numbing feeling she had felt before, the world around becoming chilled. She raised her knife with a weak hand, and he screamed as she shoved it through his chest. Tears fell down her face, as she grasped David's cold form. Her vision began to become blurry. "I'm scared." She admitted, shaking as she began to feel more and more separated from her body.

"Terry? Terry!" Dib gaped down in horror as yellow cells dripped from the wound in his chest, and he gazed at her, watching as she panted, tears falling as she grappled for life. He grasped her, holding her tight, realizing what he had done. He buried his hand in the depths of her hair, cradling her. "Don't die…." He whispered softly in her ear, stroking her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Dib." He pulled away as she spoke hoarsely. She pointed to the knife in his chest. "I want you to carve every last bit of that thing out… then feed it to me… then jam the knife in my heart to kill me." His eyes widened at her request.

"No, are you nuts?"

"Dib." He saw the lost look I her eyes. "I'm going to die." She laid a hand across his stomach, and closing her eyes, breath becoming labored. "Save my baby, Dib."

"Yours?"

She grasped him around the neck, pulling him into her, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He was shocked, hands trembling, and he tentatively slithered his palms down her hips, attempting to avoid piercing her skin with his talons as he deepened the shy display of affection into something more. Pain contorted on his face as he realized he was going to lose her. She soon nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, and he held her for a long time as she labored.

"Dib… we don't have forever." She finally said, voice becoming more and more distant, dimming like a candle in the wind. "Finish it." He pulled away, staring down at himself. "Don't make this useless…." Tears breaking down his cheeks, he carved out h is flesh, pouring out the yellow cells, and screamed as some connection like an umbilical cord snapped. He panted. "Don't stop, Dib…." He struggled past his pain, carving the cells that came as a single large mass from himself.

Terry slid to the ground against sweet David, and nodded at the gump that slowly crawled towards her. Dib leaned down to touch it, but she shook her head. "That's right, just keep coming." It crawled over her fingers like the beetle she had tried so hard to relocate on the hill after their flight from Johnny's house, Dib noticed, and slunk towards her mouth. She didn't hesitate to open it wide, and raised a trembling hand to point at the knife, then held up five fingers. Though his vision was blurry with the lack of his glasses, he could make them out as they dropped from vision, at regular intervals as the entity entered her.

Five, four, three, swallowed at two, then slowly, one. Then zero. Dib shakily raised the knife above his head as she began to convulse, then plunged it exactly where her heart would be. He watched as the blood fizzled up, but it wasn't red blood. Blood, see, travels through the heart to obtain oxygen. But at this very moment, blood without oxygen gurgled up, a deep shade of violet, and he watched as the cells of this monster began to dissolve, a scream echoing from its form somewhere.

He watched as Terry slowly fell limp, and raised her eyes to meet his. "We're both dead." Were her last words, spoken as a simple statement, as her finger s flinched, and she used the last of her energy to close her eyelids as her eyeballs offensively rolled up in the back of her head.

Dib fell to his knees, sobbing, hardly noticing the physical pain the hole in his chest caused, or the blood that gushed out. He held her body close, and suddenly he remembered a very similar event. Suddenly, a clash of buried memories conflicted with the ones he thought he knew. Suddenly, he knew that his mother had died when he was three, not six, to the same beast he had been taken over by. He also remembered a college student he called his brother, who he recognized as well. At he remembered, at age three before the event, walking down the street to a small trailer park.

* * *

"_Who are you?" It was the soft, broken voice, like a wounded bird. Dib, three, but with the mentality of a seven year old, gazed around, forgetting about his search for the chubacabra he had seen run by. He saw that there was a rusty porch behind him. Screams could be heard from inside, but on the steps, was a little girl dressed in an ugly yellow dress. Her eyes seemed soulless and so tired._

"_Um… I'm Dib." He had naively replied._

"_Oh." She glanced around, then back at him… her eyes… so dull. "Well… what are you doing here?"_

"_I saw a chubacabra."_

"_What's that?"_

"_It's like a monster out of a fairy tale. They drink sheep blood." He noted the bruises down her flesh, the ugly red and purple welts across her skin, some of which even seemed fresh. "A-are you ok?" he stammered._

"_I don't know." She replied, wearily staring at an old tire swing in one of her neighbor's yards. She twisted a strand of her thin blonde hair, which was ill-kept and greasy, as if she hadn't had a bath in months. "Are fairy god mothers real?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Fairy god mothers – are they real?"_

"_Uh…." He himself had never been big on fairy god mothers, but she seemed so hopeful. "Maybe. Why?"_

"_Do you think if I got one, she'd take me away from here?"_

"_To where?"_

_She shrugged. "I think I'd like to go to heaven most of all." He pitied her as he again stared at her welts, her right eye black._

"_Wouldn't you have to die?" He asked, a bit scared. "Your mommy and dad hurt you, don't they?"_

_She shrugged, and kicked her feet. "Maybe if I died, everything would be ok. Maybe nobody would ever hurt me again. Maybe I'd never get hit on the head, so I would remember lots more. Tomorrow I won't know you. I don't like being hit. You know? Maybe… the world would be a better place if I were in heaven."_

_Dib grimaced one last time at her lost eyes, shrugged, and walked away. But before he completely abandoned her, though, before he shlyly ran away, he told her-_

"_But I don't want you to die."_

_And, as if flowers blossoming in the spring, her green eyes twinkled at him._

* * *

He shivered at this memory, holding her corpse tight. How had he lost these memories, that one in particular? How come the moment he saw her, he didn't realize that she had been a little hurt girl in a trailer park who wanted a fairy godmother to take her to heaven? Even though it had been a small, meaningless moment, it was one he shared with her. He sobbed against her cold chest, cradling her gently, as if her body would turn to dust in his very hands.

"I didn't want to be your fairy." He whispered between cries, nuzzling her cheek. He hoped desperately that some form of wind would surround him, some kind of whisper in his ear that she loved him one more time.

But there was none.

He held her, breathing in the scent of her hair, eyes closed and head bowed as he indulged himself into the realms of his imagination, imaging her dainty hands against his back, churning his shoulder blades while whispering kind words in his ear. He hardly noticed the sun wavering into the sky.

"Dib." His head craned slowly, and he saw a tall man, who stared away, shame across his features. He walked forward, and sat beside him, gazing at the corpse. "Remember me yet?"

"Nny…." Dib whispered hoarsely, clutching his limp cadaver. "They're gone. Both of them."

"Yeah." Johnny brushed a lock out of Terry's eyes. "Pity. I didn't think she could do it – save you."

"But she didn't."

"What do you mean?" he asked sharply. The boy shivered, and Johnny understood. This child had died a little on the inside… for the second time in his life.

Johnny watched as he crumpled into her, weeping, and cried in a hoarse cracking voice. "Oh God I don't want her dead."

But there she lay despite his words, under the feat of David, herself a poor child who had slain a giant.

* * *

Zim stared at Gaz, who seemed to be quieter than usual. She had recruited him to the table. She sat across from him, a sigh. "Johnny called."

"Oh good, did they fix the Dib?"

"Yes…." She glanced up, gold eyes downcast. "Terry's dead, though."

"But…." Zim dragged his claws down his forehead. "The poor smeet." He whispered, taking a moment to mourn what he had been hoping to add to his collection of minions. "What did the stupid clone Dib even want?"

"Well… my theory is that its soul was too twisted to truly live. So, it went in search of one years ago. It found Johnny… but this didn't work, of course, because the creature could only suppress his soul, not take it over. The two fought it out, and in the end, Johnny won." Gaz stared at her hands as they drummed the tabletop. "Then… it probably waited… and waited… but it never escaped. So it became more focused on destroying Dib and Membrane and all that truly lived out of jealousy. And it found an opportunity to take Dib over, so it did. But Terry found away to strengthen Dib's soul, like killing my mom did Johnny's years ago, by shocking him to function at a new level of power. Dib killed Terry… he loved her… he was able to take control, and she managed get the parasite out of him."

"Then what happened to the Dib parasite worm?"

"She was already dying, so she allowed it to take her, and told Dib to finish her off. So he did. I guess he was lucky to decide to stab the heart and get un-oxygenated blood. Turns out that there was a lack in the DNA of the parasite that caused the breaking down of cells when exposed to un-oxygenated blood. So both are dead – Terry and the first Dib."

Zim rubbed his temples, and growled "That horrible demon!"

"But was it truly evil?"

"Eh?"

Gaz stared out the window at the rising sun, splays of gleaming orange, pinks, and yellows dancing like fire across the sky. "Is it truly evil… to want to live if you're half dead? Is it truly evil to feel anguish at the fact that your dreams will never come true? This 'monster' had a very suppressed soul – it felt no passion, and thus had to invent one, but was unable to due to its lack of having a full soul. So it never knew the passion for other creatures about it, never knew right from wrong. If this being, as I believe it, knew no better than to kill and hate, was it truly evil? Is it truly evil for something half empty to want to be full?"

Zim blinked at her, and turned in his chair, clenching his teeth. "Gaz?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you know all this?"

She smiled lightly, unafraid to as his head was turned. "I just take the time to observe, and the ability to see the whole picture after I have." She said mysteriously.

He nodded at her words, unsure of their meaning, but knew it was not to be delved into. He watched as the morning hues painted the sky in radiance, gleaming like liquid gold on a canvas.

* * *

Dib lay on the medical cot, staring vacantly at the ceiling. He couldn't bear to look at his father, who inspected him tenderly. But finally, he mustered up venomous words to say. "Thanks, thanks a lot. Thanks a lot for creating me." His fingers sparked blue electric shocks, but he hardly noticed, too anguished.

"Son-"

"You killed not only my mother, but the only other woman besides her who has ever loved me. The only woman I could call mine. The only woman ever held me in her arms, even back when we were just friends. I'm so happy that your experiments are so benefiting the world. I'm glad that you just had to try to make another you."

Membrane cringed, and pressed his forehead into his palm. He shook his sons shoulder, but he refused to roll over. He shook the child yet again, and he rolled over with hate in his eye. Membrane grasped the corner of his goggles, and for the first time in years, pulled the up over his head. They had left red imprints across his face, but Dib gaped at the sight.

Membrane's eyes were not chocolate brown. They were gold – like Gaz's. "The only gene you have from you mother. After you were born, I realized your irises had no pigmentation, your only flaw." The man's wrinkles turned upwards as he smiled sadly. "She had such beautiful eyes." Dib sat up, despite his creator's protests, and stared at the mirror. While the shape of his eyes and Membrane's were the same bright, large almond shape, with the same structure and the same features, his were a chocolate brown with tiny, insignificant flecks of gold. He was part of his mother after all….

He closed his eyes, and lay back on his bed, stroking his stomach. "How's he doing?" he asked, referring to the little child within him - the child that had been the reason for this whole catastrophe. It was not Dib, or any of the DIBs before him that the aliens had wanted in the first place – it was this tiny hybrid child growing within him.

"He'll be due soon." Membrane said tenderly, watching as yet another kick created a bump in Dib's stomach which receded as the little foot left the spot. He gazed sadly. "What will you name him?"

"His first name will be Dawn."

"Dawn?"

"He is the hope for a lot of people." He said quietly, "Then Adore, because Terry loved him so much." He sighed. "His second middle name is Terry…." Dib bit his lip, eyes misting. "I don't think I'll call him that much, though."

"Dawn Adore." Membrane repeated, but as Dib didn't have a last name, he didn't bother to insert one. One day, Dib might decide to have a last name and would change the name of his child as well – that was up to him. "It's very powerful."

Dib rolled over, gazing out the window, imagining Terry's soft head of hair against his stomach, listening to the infant inside shift. He imagined, with a broken smile, her disagreement with the baby's second middle name. She'd say 'No, don't name him after me, or he'll end up weird like me.' And he'd ruffle her hair and say 'Then maybe that should be his first name, too.' He imagined her running her fingers through his hair, then years down the road, cradling Dawn, making the child giggle sweetly with funny little sounds against his ear. He'd tell her he knew she had been abused as a little girl, and she'd fall into his embrace, and she could cry the tears he remembered the eyes of that little girl on the porch were dry of. And he'd be there for her forever, just he, she, and Dawn. It was the dream that would never come to pass. Terry was dead, and Dawn would be taken away from him by aliens.

* * *

Dib rolled over as a nurse announced that he had a visitor. Membrane had come to see him several times, and though he would never be able to forgive his father, attempted to be tender towards the man, pushing the anger welling in his chest to the back of his mind. Even Gaz had come a couple of times, but he was completely surprised when he saw Zim – in his tacky costume, of course – pull up a chair. The alien fidgeted, uncomfortable in the straight-back seat. "Dib." He said simply.

"Zim."

The Irken looked the human over. "You look un-rested."

"Can't sleep, I keep dreaming about what happened."

"Ah." The Irken twiddled his thumbs. "Uh… I'll be the one to… be cutting that out." He said, nodding towards Dib's stomach. Dib frowned.

"What do you mean, you? Where did the other aliens go?"

"They found out what happened… and they decided that the fate of the child is better off in your hands than as an experiment. Experiment DIB has been terminated. The baby is yours, and you're a free man." Dib let out a shaky, relieved breath, holding his stomach. "They asked me through a transmission if I would take care of delivery, as they no further desire to bother you. They've decided to rely on observation once more."

"If only…."

Zim sighed as Dib trailed off. "Dib, do not think we are allies… yet." Dib glanced up, and Zim closed his ruby eyes. "It seems that due to Earth's light gravitational force, I have grown to a height of which I may command my own fleet. I will deliver your child… but that will not stop my conquest. Perhaps, one day, you shall see this my way, and then we will be allies. But…." Dib had turned his gazed, curling his fists. Zim cocked an antenna. "Do not think this is personal… it is just…." Zim exhaled slowly – Dib was no longer listening.

Zim hung his head, rubbing his eyelids. "Well, Dib, I will see you again eventually." He stopped at the doorway, and leaned against it, saying "Johnny committed suicide. His body was found in his house earlier today. He'd bashed a hole in the wall, and apparently devoured the jar containing the first Dib's soul, then slit his throat."

The door shut, and Dib traced circles on his stomach, eyes jammed shut, near a breakdown.

* * *

_Thy father, up in heaven_

_What is your lore?_

_Do you know who's at your gate_

_Knocking on its door?_

_It's my love, you see_

_A small dove._

_Whose wings were snapped and broke_

_And now she is above._

_Please treat each feather_

_And teach my little bird again to fly._

_Then set her free_

_To now and forever skim across the sky._

* * *

End of Book I of Just Pretend There's A Womb.


End file.
